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^Hl/^>.3go -^^^1

Harvard College
Library

ROBERT PARKER CLAPP

^m^_

H.H-

iBRas^

iBRas?

A LITTLE BOOK

LIFE AND
DEATH

Selected and Arranged by
ELIZABETH WATERHOUSE

WITH A FRONTISPIECE

FROM A PAINTING

By G. F. watts, R.A.

LONDON

METHUEN & CO.

36 ESSEX STREET VV.C.
MDCCCCII

n^^x. , bg^

flARVARD COLLEGE UBRARY
»P FUND

To A. W.

Lord^ it belongs not to my care

Whether I die or live ;
To love and serve Thee is my share ^

And that Thy grace must give,

If life be longy I ivill be glad.

That I may long obey ;
Jf short f yet tvhy should I be sad

To soar to endless day ?

Christ leads me through no darker rooms

Than He went through before ;
He that unto God's kingdom comes

Must enter by His door.

ComCf Lordf ivhen grace has made me meet

Thy blessed face to see ;
For, if Thy ivork on earth be sweet ,
What ivill Thy glory be ?

My knotvledge of that life is small,

The eye of faith is dim ;
But *tis enough that Christ knoitfs all.

And I shall be with Him.

Richard Baxter

Y N gathering together this little bundle of thoughts
on Life of which we know eo little, and Death
of which we guess in rain, I hare seldom gone to
eeek them for the jiurpose of this book, but have
chiefly followed the pencil-marks and " dog's-ears "
of many happy years (may those not judge me
hardly who love their books another way ! ). I hope
they may not seem too incongruous in their unlike-
nesa, and that some at least of my kind readers may
recogniae a hidden bond that binds them together.

The number of tltose to whom I owe thanks
and acknowledgment is large, and to the pleasant
task of paying these I must address myself,

First to the Authors, who have shown thera-
selres most graciously generous^ — to Mr. Laurence
Binyon, Mr. Robert Bridges, Mr. William Can-
ton, Miss Elizabeth Rachel Chapman, the Rev.
R. W. Corbet, Mr. Percy Dearmer, Mr. Edward
Dowden, Mr. Rudyard KijJing, Mrs. Hamilton
King, Mrs. Edward Liddeli [^C. C. F^*wct-

viii PREFACE

Tytler], Mrs. Meynell, Dr. George MacDonald,
Mr. Quiller Couch, Mr. Stephen Phillips, and
Mr. W. B. Yeats.

I have to thank the families of the Rev. Canon
Dixon, the Rev. Father Hopkins, the Rev.
Andrew Jukes, the Rev. T. T. Lynch, Mr. Digby
Mackworth-Dolben, Mr. Coventry Patmore, Mr.
R. L. Stevenson, and the Author oi Spanish Mystics^
for allowing me to make selections from the worl^
of these Yn'itere.

I have to acknowledge the kind permission of
Mr. Shorthpuse and Mr. Bernard Holland to use
some of the thoughts of Molinos and Jacob Behmen,
as selected and edited by them.

Among Publishers, I owe to Messrs. Macmillan
the &vour of being allowed to borrow from the
poems .<>£ Matthew Arnold, of T. E, Bfown, of
Qharks Kingsley, of James.; Russell Lowell, and
of Christina Rossetti ; from the Trial and Death
of.Socraifs, by F. J. Chwda.; the Theohgia
Germdnica; and from Tie Imreathrig Pttrpose^ by
James Lane Allen. Also :for confiiriQing Mr.
Rudyard Kipling's permission for a poem from the
Jungle Book,

- I have to thank Messrs^ Longman for .selections
from Fhxlon'a Lexers Jo WomeHifvom Max Miiller's
Ve^tnta Philosophy and Lectures .on the Vrigin.tf
i^«%«9ifi ' and ' from iCardinal Newmaa'd Dream of
Geronims ; TJhe Soqiety for Pj^moting Christian

PREFACE

Knowledge, for those from Christina Rossetci'H
Versei, and from Hymns ami Miifitaliiins, by Anna
Lsetitia Waring ; Messrs. OJiphant, Anderson, &
Ferrier, for a passage from Dr. Alexander Whyte's
jlpprec'ml'wn of Jacob Behmcn ; MesBfB, Bums &
Oatee, for one from the Miimial of ihr Third Ordtr
of St, Francli ; Messrs. Hodder & Scoughtonj
for one from M. Sabatier'a Life of Si, Francis ;
and Mr. David Douglas, for selections from The
Spiriiual Order, by Thomas Erskine of Liolathen.

To the TheoEophica! PublishiDg Society I am
indebted for fragments from the Bhagaiiad Gtid,
translated by Mrs. Besant ; to Messrs. Gibbings,
for selections from the Cannina Cracis and
Colhquia Crucii of Dora Greenwelli to Messrs.
l^tizac & Co., for those from Sir M. Monier-
WIlliamB' fni/ran IViidom ; and to Mr, John
Murray and the Exeeutora of the late Master of
Balliol, for those from CD%f Servians ; to Mr.
Scbaitian Evans and Mr, Alfred Nutt, for those
from the Mirror of Perfeclimi ; and to the Editor
of The Pilot, for a passage from The Road Mender,
by Michael Fairless.

I have also to thank Mr. John Lane for per-
mitting me to include parts of poems by Francis
ThompBOB and Arthur Christopher Benson ;
Messrs. Smith, Elder, & Co., for poems by Robert
Browning! and Mr. Fisher Unwin, for a poem
by Madame Darmesteter.

X PREFACE

To Mr. G. F. Watts I am indebted for kind
permission to use as a Frontispiece his . beautiful
picture, "Death crowning Innocence"^ — "Our
Sister Death/' as I should like to call her.

My difficulty has been, among books so rich
in beautiful thoughts as many of those from
which I have gathered, to know when to restrain
my hand, especially among those whose writers
have long passed beyond the region ot copy-
right.

One book I long to include entire — the little
volume of Meditations called Manchester al Mondo^
written by an Earl of Manchester towards the end
of the sixteenth or beginning of the seventeenth
century, who says : " When I was occupatisstmus^
I delighted myself with this comfort, that a time
would come wherein I might live to myself, hoping
to have sweet leisure to enjoy myself at last — and
this I am now come to — D'uponendo non mutando me.
The covenant of the grave is shewed to no man,
saith the Wise Man, but the Watchword is given to
all men —

Sint Ittmbl pnecinctif
Lueerme ardentesj
Semper vigilantes.

Lord, let me be found in this posture when I come
to die."

His contemplations of Death and Immortality
1 Photograph by F. HoUycr.

PREFACE xi

are so sweet, so tender, so eager, that they make
his reader go about the summer world all a-tiptoe
to spring upward, to spread wings and fly away
into that other of which he tells — and then, calming
down, the spirit just rests and rejoices in the
abiding thought of It, shining behind all the visible
life " like the stars behind the blue."

It has been a sorrow to me not even to touch
that great storehouse of high thought, the Divina
Commedia, but no translation seems in any way able
to set forth its treasures worthily.

I must not dwell longer on my sources, or I would
speak of Tauler and of Penington, and Behmen and
William Law, and many another ; to whom I shall
be very happy if this little book may lead some
readers.

Happier still if some hearts are cheered among
the lengthening shadows, and even helped to see
light across the River by any words that it
contains.

E. W.

.A LITTLE BOOK
LIFE AND DEATH

THE SHRINE

'T'^HERE is a ahrine whose golden gate
■*■ Was opened by the Hand of God ;
It stands serene, inviolate.
Though millions have its pavement trad ;
As fresh aa when the first sunrise
Awoke the iark in Paradise.

'Tia conipaaa'd with the dust and toil
Of common days, yet should there fall
A single speck, a single anil,
Upon the whiteness of ita wall,
The angela' tears in tender rain
Would make the temple theirs ^igain.

Without, the world ia tiretl and old,
Bnt once within the enchanted door,
The mists of time are backward rolled,
And creeds and ages are no more.
But all the human-hearted meet

MOTHERHOOD

I enter ; all is simply fair.

Nor incense clouds, nor carven throne,

But in the fragrant morning air

A gentle lady sits alone ;

My mother — ah ! whom should I see'

Within, save ever only thee ?

DiGBY Mackworth-Dolb:

MOTHERHOOD

s lying on my knees,
gos of Heaven she reads :
My face ia all the Heaven she sees —
Is all the Heaven she Deeds.

And she U well, yea, bathed in bliss,

If Heaven is io my face —
Behind it all is tenderness,

And tnithfulneBB and grace.

I mean her well so carneady.
Unchanged in changing mood ;

My life would go without a sigh
To bring her something good.

I alt

chUd, and I

also am a child, ai
Am ignorant and weak ;
I gaze upon the starry sky,
And then I must not speak.

For all behind the starry sky,
Behind the world so broad,

Behind men's hearts and souls, doth lie
The Infinite of God.

If true to her, though dark with doubt

I cannot choose but be,
Thou, who dosi see all round about,

Art surely tiue to mc.

MOTHERHOOD

If I am low and sinfiil, bring
More love where need is rife ;

Thou knowest what an awful thing
It is to be a Life.

Hast Thou not wisdom to enwrap

My waywardness around, "
And hold me quietly on the lap

Of Love without a bound ?

And so I sit in Thy wide space, '

My child upon my knefe ;
She looketh up into my face.

And I look up to Thee.

George MacDonald

MOTHERHOOD

DEEP in the warm vale the village ia sleeping,
Sleeping the fira on the bleak rock above;
Nought wakes, save grateful hearts, silently creeping
Up to their Lord in the might of their love.

What Thou hast given to me, Lord, here I bring

Thee.
Odour, and light, and the magic of gold ;
Feet which must follow Thee, Mjm which must

sing Thee,
Limbs which must ache for Thee ere they grow

old.

What Thou hast given to me. Lord, here I render,
Life of mine own hfe, the fruit of my love ;
Take him, yet leave him me, till I shall render
Count of the precious charge, kneeling above.

From the Salnt't Tragedy — Chakles Kingsley

A CHILD

A CHILD'S a plaything for an hour;
"^^ Its pretty tricks we try
For that or for a longer space —
Then tire, and lay it by.

But I knew one that to itself

All seasons could control ;
That would have mock'd the siense of pain

Out of a grievM soul.

Thou straggler into loving arms,

Young climber up of knees,
When I forget thy thousand w;ay8

Then life and all shall cease.

Mary Lamb

pONDLY the wise man aaid that fooliehneas
' Id a child's heart was bound, aad said the rod
Coold perfect that which surelier one caresa
Lays, love- baptized, before the feet of God.

Aod fondly he, the passionate saint who steeped
His virgin soul in Carthaginian mire.
Found in the weanling babe that Jaughed and leaped
Glad from its mother's arm, hate, spite and ire.

They erred. The child is, wag, and still shall be,
The world's deliverer ( in his heart the springs
Of our salvation ever rise, and we
Mount on his innoceacy as on wings.

I, at the least, who knew and ever grieve
One little lovely soul, must so believe.

Elizabeth Rachel Chapmas

8 YOUTH

/^OME, then, as ever, like the Wind at morning ]

^^ Joyous, O Youth, in the aged world renew

Freshness to feel the eternities around it.

Rain, stars, and clouds, light and the sacred dew.

The strong sun shines above thee :

That strength, that radiance bring !

If Winter come to Winter,

When shall men hope for Spring^

Laujlence Binyon

A MOTHER'S PAIN

GROWN UP

r^HILD, child, child !

^ What hsLve they done with thee ?

Where is the little child

Who laughed upon my knee ?

My son is straight and stipng^

Ready of lip and limb ;.
'Twas the dream of my whole life long

To bear, a son like him.

He has griefs I cannot guess,
He has joys I cannot know :

I love him none die less;
With a man it should be so.

But where, where, where

Is the child so deaf to me, .

With the silken-golden hair, .
Who sobbed upon my knee ?

)

I \

10 A MOTHER'S PAIN

TT is not yours, O mother, to complain,
^ Not, mother, yours to weep,
Though nevermore your son again
Shall to your bosom creep.
Though nevermore again you watch your baby
sleep.

Though in the greener paths of earth
Mother and child, no more
We wander ; and no more the birth
Of me whom once you bore.
Seems still the brave reward that once it seemed
of yore ;

Though as all passes, day and night.
The seasons and the years.
From you, O mother, this delight.
This also disappears —

Some profit yet survives of all your pangs and
tears.

The child, the seed, the grain of corn.
The acorn on the hill,
Each for some separate end is born
In season fit, and still

Each must in strength arise to work the almighty
will.

A MOTHER'S PAIN

' So from the hearth the children flee.
By chat almighty hand
Austerely led ; so one by sea
Goes forth, and one by land :
Nor aught of* all man's eons escapes from that
I.

plied his ri aging

And 39 the fervent smith of yore
Beat out the glowing blade.
Nor wielded in the front of war
The weapons that he madi
But in the tower at hom
trade}

So like a sword thi
On nobler missions sent ;
And as the smith remained
In peaceful

.hall r.

the while

■t pent,

home,
home the mt
Robert Louis St

12 THE SORROW OF LOVE

' I *HE quarrel of the sparrows m the eares,
'^ The full round moon and the star-laden sky,
And the loud song of the ever singing leaves.
Had hid' away earth's old and weary cry.

And then you came with those red mournful lips,
And with you came the whole of the wodd's
tears,

And all the sorrows of her labouring ships^
And all the burden of her myriad years.

And now the sparrows warring in the eaves,
The curd-pale moon, the white stars in the sky.

And the loud chaunting of the unquiet leaves.
Are shaken with earth's old and weary cry.

W. B. Yeats

LOVE'S CHANGE

) iweet love seemed that April morn.
When iirat we kissed beside the thorn,
So strangely Bweet, it was not atrange
We thought that love could never change.

But I can tell — let truth be told —
That love will chinge in growing old ;
Though day by day is nought to see,
So delicate hia motions be.

And in the end 'twill come to ]iass
Quite to forget what odcc he was,
Nor even in fancy to recall
The pleasure that wis all in all.

His little spring, that sweet we found.
So deep in summer flouda is drowned,
I wonder, bathed in joy complete.
How love so young could be so sweet.

RoBEKT Briix

14 LOVE AND PAIN

/^OME to me in my dreams, and then
^^ By day I shall be well again ;
For then the night will more than pay
The hopeless longing of the day.

Come as thou cam'st a thousand times,
A messenger from radiant climes,
And smile on thy new world, and be
As kind to others as to me.

Or, as thou never cam'st in sooth.
Come now, and let me deem it truth,
And part my hair, and kiss my brow.
And say, " My love, why sufFerest thou ? "

Come to me in my dreams, and then
By day I shall be well again ;
For then the night will more than pay
The hopeless longing of the day.

Matthew Arnold

LOVE AND DUTY

(~\P lo'e that never found ilia earthly close,
^-^ What aeque! ? Streaming eyea and break-
ing hearts ?
Or all the same as if he had not been ^

Shall sharpest, pathos blight us, knowing all
Life needs for life is possible to will —
Live happy ; tend thy flowers ; be tended by
Mjr blessing ! Should my Shadow cross thy

thoughts
Too sadly for thy peace, remand it thou
For calmer hours to Memory's darkest hold,
If not to be forgotten— not at once—
Not all forgotten. Should :t cioss thy dreams,
O might it come like one that looks content,
With quiet eyea unfaithful Eo the truth,
And point thee forward to a distant light.
Or seem to lift a burden from thy heart
And leaye thee freer, till thou wake refresh'd
Then when the first low matin-chirp hath grown
Full quire, and morning driven her plqw of pearl
Far furrowing into hght the mounded rack,
Beyond the fair green lield and eastern sea. ,, i
Alfked, LoFio TEidMyipi^ .,

A CHILD

A CHILD'S a plaything for an hour ;
"^^ Its pretty tricks we try
For that or for a longer space —
Then tire, and lay it by.

But I knew one that to itself

All seasons could control ;
That would have mock'd the sense of pain

Out of a grievM soul.

Thou straggler into loving arms,

Young climber up of knees.
When I forget thy thousand ways

Then life and all shall cease.

Mary Lamb

'ONDLY the wise man snid tbai foolishneM

child' a heart W38 bound, and said the rod
Could perfect that which surelier one caress
La^s, love- baptized, before the feet of God.

And fondly he, the passionate salot who steeped
His virgin soul in Carthaginian mire,
Found in the weanling babe that laughed and leaped
Glad from its mother's arm, hate, spite and ire.

They erred. The child is, was, and still shall be,
The world's deliverer ; in his heart the springs
Of our salvation ever rise, and we
Mount on his innoceney as on wings.

I, at the least, who knew and ever grieve
One little lovely soul, must eo believe.

EniABETH Rachel Chapman

8 YOUTH

/^OME, then, as ever, like the Wind at morning i

^^ Joyous, O Youth, in the aged world renew

Freshness to feel the eternities around it.

Rain, stars, and clouds, light and the sacred dew.

The strong sun shines above thee :

That strength, that radiance bring !

If Winter come to Winter,

When shall men hope for Spring ?

Laublence Binyon

GROWING OLD TOGETHER 19

One must go first, ah God ! one must go first ;
After so long one blow for both were good ;
Still like old friends, glad to have met, and leave
Behind a wholesome memory on the earth.

Stephen Phillips

lo A MOTHER'S PAIN

TT is not yours, O mother, to complain.

Not, mother, yours to weep,
Though nevermore your son again
Shall to your bosom creep,
Though nevermore again you watch your baby

sleep.

Though in the greener paths of earth
Mother and child, no more
We wander ; and no more the birth
Of me whom once you bore.
Seems still the brave reward that once it seemed
of yore ;

Though as all passes, day and night.
The seasons and the years.
From you, O mother, this delight.
This also disappears —

Some profit yet survives of all your pangs and
tears.

The child, the seed, the grain of com.
The acorn on the hill.
Each for some separate end is born
In season fit, and still

Each must in strength arise to work the almighty
will.

A MOTHER'S PAIN

80 from the heanh the children flee,

By that alnughty hand

Austerely led j so one by aea

Goes forth, and one by land :

Nor aught of all man's sons escapes fro

And as the fervent smith of yore

Beat out the glowing blade.

Nor wielded in the front of war

The weapons that he made,

But in the tower at home stil! plied Wis ringing

So like a sword the son shall roam,

On nobler missions sent; '

And as the smith remained at home.

In peaceful turret pent.

So sits the while at home the mother well

RoHEKT LouH Stevemson

« LOVE AND DEATH

' I ^00 soon, too soon comes Death to show
'*' We love more deeply than we know !
The rain, that fell upon the height
Too gently to be called delight,
Within the dark vale reappears
As a wild cataract of tears ;
And love in life should strive to. see
Sometimes what love in death would be !

Coventry Patmore

EARLY DEATH 23

T LEAVE thy praises unexpress'd
In verse that brings myself relief,
And by the measure of my grief

I leave thy greatness to be guessed ;

What practice howsoever expert
In fitting aptest words tq things,
Or .voice the richest-toned that sings,

Hath power to give thee as thou wert ?

I care not in these fading daya
To raise a cry that lasts not long,
,And round thee with thie breeze of song

To stir a little dust of praise.

Thy leaf has perish'd in the green.

And, while we breathe beneath the sun.
The world which credits what is done

Is cold to all that might have been.

So here shall silence guard thy fame ;
But somewhere, out of human view,
Whatever thy hands are set to do

Is wrought with tumult of acclaim.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

24 EARLY DEATH

npHOUGH the righteous be prevented with
■*• death, yet shall he be in rest. For honourable
age is not that which standeth in length of time, nor
that is measured by number of years. But wisdom
is the gray hair unto men, and an unspotted life is
old age.

He pleased God, and was beloved of Him : so
that living among sinners he was translated. Yea,
speedily was he taken away, . lest that wickedness
should alter his understanding, or deceit beguile his
soul. • • . He, being made perfect in a short time,
fulfilled a long time.

This the people saw and understood it not . . .
to what end the Lord hath set him in safety.

Wisdom of Solomon

LOVE ETERNAL

'npHEY that love beyond the World canopt be
*■ separated by it.

Death cannot kill what never dies. Nor can
Spirits ever be divided that love and live in the
same Divine Principle ; the Root and Record of
their Friendship,

If Absence be not Death, neither is it theirs.

Death is but Crossing the World, as Friends do
the Seas j They live in one another still.

For they must needs be present, that love and
live in that which is omnipresent.

In this Divine Glass they see Face to Face;
and their converse is Free, as well as Pure.

This is the Comfort of Friends, that though they
njay be said to Die, yet their Friendship and
Society are, in the beat Sense, ever present, because
Immortal.

William Penn

26 UNSEEN COMPANIONS

A ND yet, dear heart ! remembering thee,
-^•^ Am I not richer than of old ?
Safe in thy immortality,

What change can reach the wealth I hold ?
What chance can mar the pearl and gold

Thy love hath left in trust for me ?
And while in life's long afternoon.

Where cool and long the shadows grow,
I walk to meet the night that soon

Shall shape and shadow overflow,
I cannot feel that thou art far,
Since near at need the angels are ;
And when the sunset gates unbar.

Shall I not see thee waiting stand,
And, white against the evening star.

The welcome of thy beckoning hand ?

John Greenleaf Whittier

^^^ UNSEEN COMPANIONS 2

r\ LOVING Spirit, do not go !

^-^ Thy presence is a precious thing ;
I It makes my tears more Boftly flow,

f And sweetens every song I sing.

My ht'art with thy rejoicing fill.
And bring me heavenly tidings still.

It sooUiea my soul to feel thee near.
And I believe that thou wilt stay, —

Because the Lord, thy life, is here,
And He wil! never go away ;

And blest will our communion be.

With thee in Him, and Him in thee.

Oft in my secret communings

With thoughts of those who count thee dear,
I speak to thee of many things

That others would not care to hear ;
Now that 00 pain thy !ove can share,
I love to think that thau wilt care.

I hear ihce in the aong of birds,

Thee in the gladdening flowers I see,

And earth has music for the words

That came to us from heaven through thee.

Hope, joy, the good that God has willed.

Thy hopt confirmed, thy joy fulfilled.

28 UNSEEN COMPANIONS

I do not bid thee now farewell —
A prayer unmeet for life like thine ;

With thy beloved in heaven I dwell,
And thy beloved on earth are mine :

My heart with them, and theirs with thee,

How canst thou, dear one, distant be f v,

,"1

We tarry «till upon the road,

Our path goes on, we know not where ;
But God is always our abode.

And we are sure to meet thee there :
Our life His charge, our work His will.
To love thee is delightful still.

Anna L;etitia Waring

UNSEEN COMPANJONS 29

^^HJNSEEN CO

^^^^PT with iiQcavered head
^^^ ■*■ Salute the sacred dead,
Who went, and who return not.

We rather aeem the dead that stayed behind.
Blowi trumpets, all your exaltations blow !
For never shall dieir aureoled presence lack :
I lee them muiiter in a gleaming row,
With ever-youthful brows that nobler show i
We find in our dull road their shining track ;

In every nobler mood
We feel the odcnt of their spirit glow.
Part of our life's unalterable good.
Of all our saindier aspiration :

They cgme transfigured back,
Secure from change in their high-hearted ways,
Beautiful evermore, and with the rays
Of morn on their whi(e Shields of Expectation.
Jakes Russell Lowell

30 UNSEENS COMPANIONS

T ORD, make me ofle with T?hine own faithfu^
^^ ones^

Thy Saints who love Thee and are loved by
Tiice;

Till the day break and till the shadows flfee, '
At one with them in alms ahd ori^ns ^ . ' ' '
At one with him who toils and him who rtitis,

And hhn who yearns for union yet to be ;

At one with all who throng the crystal sea,
And wait the setting of our moons and suns.
Ah, my beloved ones gone on. before.

Who looked not back with hand upon the pfejugh !
If beautiful to me while still in sight j

How beautiful must be your aspects now^

Your unknown^ well-known aspects m that Kgfet
Which clouds shall never ckyilid fyt cverhiore ?

Christina Rossetti

i :

THE HAPPY LIFE

pHEmanoflifeuprighi,

Whose guilticBB heart k free
n aU dishonest deeds,
Or thought of vanity ;

The man whuse silent days
In harmless joys are apenC,

Whom hopes cannot delude,
Nor Borrow discontent, —

That man needs neither towers

Nor armour for defence.
Nor secret vaults to fly
From thunder's violence :

He only can behold
With unaffrighted eyea

The horrors of the deep
And terrors of the skies.

Thus, scorning all the cares
That fate or fortune brings,

He makes the heaveo his book,
His wisdom heavenly things:

32 THE HAPPY LIFE

Good thoughts his only friends,
His wealth a well-spent age,

The earth his sober inn
And quiet pilgrimage.

Thomas Campion

THE HAPPY LIFE

'RtJ, t "on every day
With grateful heart would say,
"Thy truths are sure and beautiful ;
How can my life grow dull ? "

And when I eat and drink,
I joyfully would think,
That all Thou hast created good
May be a wise man's food.

And as I work and trade.

Pay others, and am paid,

" Knowledge," I'll say, "we must not ceasi

To exchange, and so increase."

And when I hear the crowd

In busy trafRc loud,

I'll cry, " How sweet would be the sound

Were al! but brothers found ! "

And when my friends at night
Count my return delight^
I'll think how pleased m.y God will be
His child in licaven to sec.

24 EARLY DEATH

npHOUGH the righteous be prevented with
"*• death, yet shall he be in rest. For honourable
age is not that which standeth in length of time, nor
that is measured by number of years. But wisdom
is the gray hair unto men, and an unspotted life is
old age.

He pleased God, and was beloved of Him : so
that living among sinners he was translated. Yea,
speedily was he taken away, lest that wickedness
should alter his understanding, or deceit beguile his
soul. • . . He, being made perfect in a short time,
fulfilled a long time.

This the people saw and understood it not • . •
to what end the Lord hath set him in safety.

Wisdom of Solomon

LOVE ETERNAL

npHEY that love beyond the World cannot be
separated by it.

Death cannot kill what never dies. Not can
Spirits ever be divided that love and live in the
same Divine Principle ; the Root and Record of
their Friendship.

If Absence be not Deathj neither is it theirs.

Death is but Crossing the World, aa Friends do
the Seas ; They live in one another still.

For ihey must needs be preaent, that love and
live in that which is omnipresent.

In this Divine Glass they see Face to Face :
and their converse ia Free, aa well as Pure.

This is the Comfort of Friends, that though they
may be said to Die, yet their Friendship and
Society are, in the best Senee, ever present, because
Immottal.

William Penn

;36 THE HAPPY LIFE

D E usefid where thou livest, that they may

-^ Both wanty and wish thy pleasing presence

still.
Kindness, good parts, great places are the way
To compass this. Find out men's want and will,
And meet them there. All worldly joys go less
To the one joy of doing kindnesses.

George Heraert

THE HAPPY LIFE 37

00 act in thy brief passage through this world
*^ That thy apparel, speech, and innef store
Of knbwledge be adapted to thy age,
Thy occupation, nieans, and parentage.

The Code of Manu

From IniRan Whdom — Sir M. Monier- Williams

38 THE HAPPY LIFE

A H, yet, ere I descend to the grave,
'^^ May I a small house and large garden have.
And a few friends, and many books, both true.
Both wise, and both delightful too !

Abraham Cowley

THE TRUE LIFE 3^

TpHOUGHTS alone cause the round of a new
birth and a new death ; let a nian therefore
Btriye to purify his thoughts. What a man thinks,
that he is ; this is the old secret.

The Maltrdyana Upanishad

From The Vedanta Philosophy — Max MOller

40 THE WISE LIFE

' I *HE residue of life is short. Live as on a

Marcus Aurelius Antoninus

* mountain.

HAPPY WORK 41

■ J \

.1.

'•if

"^^QT for these sad issues
'*-^ Was Man created ; but to obey the law
Of Jife, and' hope and actipn. fiind 'tis known
That when we stand upon our native soil,
Unelbowed by such objects as oppress
Our active powers, those powers then^selves become
Strong to subvert our noxious qualities. .
They sweep distemper from the busy day,
And make the chalice of the big round year
Run p'er with gladnjess ; wfaiefice thi^ Being moves
In beauty through thie world ; and all who see
Bless him, rejoicing in his neighbourhood. . / ; .

William Wordsworjh

42 THE ARTIFICER

'f^T'HILE thou art in the world, and hast an
^^ honest employment, thou art certainly by
the order of Providence obliged to labour in it,
and to finish the work given thee, according to thy
best ability, without repining in the least ; seeking
out and manifesting for God's glory the Wonders of
Nature and Art. Since, let the Nature be what it
will, it is all the Work and Art of God, And let
the Art also be what it will, it is still God's Work
and His Art, rather than any art or cunning of man.
And all both in Art and Nature serveth but
abundantly to manifest the wonderful Works of
God, that He for all and in all may be glorified.
Yea, all serveth, if thou knowest rightly how
to use them, only to recollect thee more inwards,
and to draw thy Sj^irit into that majestic Light
wherein the original patterns and forms of things
visible are to be seen.

Let the hands or the head be at labour, thy
Heart ought nevertheless to rest in God. God is a
Spirit ; dwell in the Spirit ; work in the Spirit ;
pray in the Spirit ; and do everything in the Spirit j
for remember thou also art a Spirit, and thereby
created in the image of God.

Jacob Behmen

THE ARTIFICER

THE Lord hath called by name Bezalccl the
son of Uri ; . . . and He hath filled him with
the Spirit of God, in wisdom, in understanding, and
in JtQOwledge, and in all manner of workmanship;
and to devise curious works, to work in gold, and
in silver and in brass, and in the cutting of stones lo
set them, and in carving of wood, to make any
manner of cunning work, . . . Him hath He filled
with wisdom of heart to work all manner of work,
of the engraver, and of the cunning workman, and
of the embroiderer in blue, and in purple, in scarlet
and in fine linen, and of tht- weaver, even of them
that do any work and of those that devise cunning
work.

ExodM

44 THE HOUSEWIFE

A S for matters of Huswifery, when God puts
'^^ them upon you it would bee sin either to
refuse them or perform them negligently^ and
therefore the ignorance of them is a great shame
and Danger for women that intend Marriage^ But
to seek these kinds of Businesses for pleasure, and
to make them your delights, and to pride yourselves
for your care and curiositie in them, is a great
vanitie and Folly at the best, and to neglect better
things and more necessarie by pretence of being
imployed in these things is surely though a common
Practize, yet a peice of sinfull Hypocrisie. Doe
them therefore when God puts them upon you, and
doe them carefully and well, and God shall reward
you, however the things themselves bee but meanct
accepting them at your hands as if they were
greater matters, when they are done and undergone
out of Obedience to His Command. But let your
Delight bee onely in the better part.

Mary Ferrar

TIME 45

'^TEVER talk with any man^ or undertake any
^^ trifling employment, merely to pass the
time away ; for every day well spent may become
a ** day of salvation/' and time rightly employed is
an ** acceptable time." And remember that the time
thou triflest away was given thee to repent in, to
pray for pardon of sins, to work out thy salvation,
to do the work of grace, to lay up against the day
of judgment a treasure of good works, that thy time
may be crowned with Eternity.

Jeremy Taylor

46 CONTENTMENT

/^REAT 18 their peace who know a limit to
^^ their ambitious minds, that have learned to
be contented with the appointments and bounds of
Providence ; that are not careful to be great ; but,
being great, are humble and do good. Such keep
their wits with their consciences, and, with an even
mind, can at all times measure the uneven world,
rest fixed in the midst of all its uncertainties, and
as becomes those who have an interest in a better,
in the good time and will of God, cheerfully leave
this.

William Penn

CONTENTMENT 47

THE SHEPHERD BOY SINGS IN THE
VALLEY OF HUMILIATION

LJ E that is down needs fear no fall,
*■■ -■' He that is low, no pride ;
He that is humble ever shall y

Have God to be his guide.

I am content with what I have,

Little be it or much ;
And, Lord, contentment still I crave,

Because Thou savest such.

Fullness to such a burden is

That go on pilgrimage :
Here little, and hereafter bliss.

Is best from age to age.

John Bunyan

48 SIMPLICITY OF UFE

T ET all persons of all conditions avoid all
^^ delicacy and niceness in their clothing or
diet, because such softness engages them upon great
mis-spendings of their time, while they dress and
comb out all their opportunities of their morning
devotion, and half the day's severity, and sleep out
the care and provision for their souls.

Jeremy Taylor

SIMPLICITY OF LIFE 49

f N clothesy cheap handsomenesse doth bear the bell.
^ Wisedome's a trimmer thing than shop ere

gave.
Say not then, This with that lace will do well ;
But, This with my discretion will be brave.
Much curiousnesse is a perpetuall wooing
Nothing with labour ; folly long a doing.

George Herbert

50 SIMPLICITY OF LIFE

C^XCESS in Apparel is another Costly Folly.
'^ The very Trimming of the vain World
would cloath the naked one.

Chuse thy Cloaths by thine own Eyes, not
another's. The more plain and simple they are^
the better. Neither unshapely, nor fantastical ;
but for Use and Decency, and not for Pride.

If thou art clean and warm, it is sufEcient ; For
more doth but rob the Poor, and please the Wanton.
It is said of the true Church, The King's daughter
is all glorious within. Let our Care therefore be
of our Minds more than of our Bodies, if we would
be of her Communion.

William P£nn

SIMPLICITY OF LIFE 51

/^UR dress, house, and furniture should certainly
^-^ be decent and becoming our condition i but
Christian simplicity should be our most beautiful
adornment. The love of finery is an occasion of
numberless sins. It is the cause of much loss of
that precious time, for which we shall have to
render a strict account at the judgement scat of
God, How many useless expenses does this taste
for dress occasion, whiiat it wastes the greater part
of the money wliich if spent in alma would alleviate
the misery of many poor sufferers. . . .

Our dress should be in keeping with our position

If the position which Providence has assigned to
us in the world rei^uiies that our attire should be
more adorned, and our garments of richer material,
our heart at least should be a stranger to all these
things, ao that we say with Queen Esther: "Thou
knowest, O Lord, my necessity, that I abominate
the sign of my pride and glory which is upon my
head — and that Thy handmaid hath never rejoiced
bat in Thee, O Lord our God."
From the Manual of ibe Third Order of St. Francis

52 SIMPLICITY OF LIFE

"D EMOVE from thyself all provocations and in-
"^^ centives to anger ... in not heaping up
with an ambitious or curious prodigality any very
curious or choice utensils, seals, jewels, glasses,
precious stones ; because those very many accidents
which happen in the spoiling or loss of these
rarities, are in event an irresistible cause of violent
anger.

j£R£MY Taylor

BAGS THAT WAX NOT OLD 53

T^O good with what thou hast, or it will do thee
'^ no good.

Seek not to be Rich, but Happy. The one
lies in Bags, the other in Content : which Wealth
can never give.

If thou wouldest be Happy, bring thy Mind to
thy Condition, and have an IndifFerency for more
than what is sufficient.

Be rather Bountiful than Expensive.

Neither make nor go to Feasts, but let the
laborious Poor bless thee at Home in their Solitary
Cottages.

William Penn

54 DAILY SERVICE

p^VERY day bring God sacrifices and be die
'^ priest in this reasonable service, offering thy
body and the virtue of thy soul.

St. Chrysostom

DAY AND NIGHT 55

TXTHEN the clock strikes, or however else you
^^ shall measure the day, it is good to say a
short ejaculation every hour, that the parts and
returns of devotion may be the measure of your
time: and so do also in all the breaches of thy
deep, that those spaces which have in them no
direct business of the world may be filled with
religion.

Jeremy Taylor

56 DAY AND NIGHT

T N the morning, when you awake, accustom your-
'- self to think first upon God, or something in
order to His service : and at night also, let Him
close thine eyes: and let your sleep be necessary
and healthful, not idle and expensive of time, be-
yond the needs and conveniences of nature: and
sometimes be curious to see the preparation which
the sun makes, when he is coming forth from his
chambers of the east.

Jeremy Taylor

NIGHT 57

VfTHEN night comes, list thy deeds; make
^^ plain the way

'Twixt heaven and thee ; block it not with delays :
But perfect all before thou sleep' st ; then say,
"There's one Sun more strung on my Bead of

days."
What's good store up for Joy, the bad, well scann'd.
Wash off with tears, and get thy Master's hand.

Thy Accounts thus made, spend in tjhe grave one

houre
Before thy time ; be not a stranger there.
Where thou may'st sleep whole ages : Life's poor

flowre
Lasts not a night sometimes. Bad spirits fear
This conversation ; but the good man lyes
Intombed many days before he dyes.

Henry Vaughan

58 NIGHT

p^RE on my bed my limbs I lay,
^^ It hath not been my use to jM-ay
With moving lips or bended knees,
But silently, by slow degrees,
My spirit I to Love compose.
In humble trust mine eyelids close
In reverential resignation.
No wish conceived, no thought exprest.
Only a sense of supplication ;
A sense o'er all my soul imprest
That I am weak, yet not unblest.
Since in me, round me, everywhere.
Eternal strength and wisdom are.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

/^IVER of Sleep, unsleeping Lord,
^-^ Now am 1 to my chamber come,
Where flesh and heart ea^h seek their home ;
Thy nightly gift again I craTe,
My wearied frame repose would have.
My heart the promise of Thy Word.

Just ready to depart, the Day
Spake to me in my garden walk,
Where oft the Day and I do talit.
And said, " O Soul, both thou aod I
Have lived beneath a Father's eye j
And now to Him 1 go away."

Then soon the Night, immense with stars,
Whose gentle and immortal flame
Burns on in sanctity the same
As when Thou first didst tight their fires,
Came, saying, " O Soul, are thy desirca
Bound to the earth by EcnsuaJ bars?"

Not unrebukable am I,
Not spotless Thy command have kept ;
Yet, Lord, my day's poor work accept,
For I have lived as in Thy view ;
Accept that wistful worship too
Wherewith I gave the Night reply.

6o NIGHT

Here now I am : the house is fast ;
I am shut in from all but Thee ;
Great witness of my privacy,
Dare I unshamed my soul undress,
And, like a child, seek Thy caress.
Thou Ruler of a realm so vast ?

Ask it I will ; I cannot rest
Unless Thou grant some tender sign,
Assuring me that I am Thine :
The mightiest king that father is
Loves well his litde child to kiss ;
And art not Thou of fathers best ?

Of fathers best, of kings supreme.
Child of the kingdom reckon me.
With Jesus one, thus born of Thee,
Secured and nourished by Thy grace.
And righteous in His righteousness.
Say, " Ever thou art mine in Him."

The light is out : my rest I take,
Down with unfearing heart I lie.
And wait sleep's healing mystery, —
Still as the grave, but kind as heaven :
Such sleep, O Lord, to me be given,
That I may holier, stronger wake.

Thomas T. Lynch

'X'HE chiidren i
A fhii! world,

sleep, the children of
I foolish hurrying time.
Children too, indeed, of Nature our gentle Mother-
She says, 38 alJ wise mothers say, that they have
had a day too full of play or work, too eager, too
awakening. She knows why they cobs among the
white pillows till morning makes grey squares upon
the curtain. To-morrow, yea, and all to-morrows,
she must see to it that they pass quieter days, that
they come at evening and read a chapter from the
big Bible, and eay their prayers at her knee, and
BO put away the busy thoughts of the day. So
Mother Nature says, but ah^they do not listen.

In the sweet old quiet days when men did great
things because they were never in a hurry, they
thought each night an image in small, a type, a
possible beginning too, of the long Night — which
is indeed the Day. The darkness brought holy
musings as surely as it brought the stars, and with
thoughts floating out into the wide sea of infinite
being. Sleep, who dwells in that calm region,
came unsought. Instead of the peevish wail of the
sleepless, was the wise desire of the wakeflil
spirit to rise and give thanks in the Night Watches,
and to let no hour pass without its prayer.

Fiom Thaughtt of a Tertiary

62 NIGHT

CLEEP should be light, so that we may easily
^ awake ; for we ought to rise frequently in the
night, in order to give thanks to God. . . . We
who have the Word, the watchman, dwelling in us,
must not sleep through the night.

St. Clement of Alexandria

NIGHT 63

I ■» ■

T^E AR night ! this world^s defeat ; - .

^^ The stop to busie fools ; carets clieck and

curb;
The day of spirits ; my soul's calm retreat
Which none disturb !
Christ's progress, and His prayer-time ;
The hours to which high Heaven doth chime.

God's silent, searching flight :

When my Lord's head is filled with dew, and all

His locks are wet with the clear drops of night ;

His still soft call ;

His knocking-time ; the soul's dumb watch.

When spirits their fair kinred catch.

Were all my loud, evil days

Calm and unhaunted as is thy dark tent,

Whose peace but by some Angel's wing or voice

Is seldom rent ;

Then I in heaven all the long year

Would keep, and never wander here.

But living where the sun

Doth all things wake, and where all mix and tyre

Themselves and others, I consent and run

To every myre ;

And by this world's ill guiding light,

Erre more than I can do by night.

64 NIGHT

There is in God, some say,

A deep but dazzling darkness ; as men here

Say it is late and dusky, because they

See not all clear.

O for that night ! where I in Him

Might live invisible and dim !

Henry Vaughan

SOLITUDE 65

D Y all means use sometimes to be alone.

-■^ Salute thy self: see what thy soul doth wear.

Dare to look in thy chest ; for 'tis thine own :

And tumble up and down what thou find'st there.
Who cannot rest till he good fellows finde,
He breaks up house, turns out of doores his minde.

George Herbert

66 SOLITUDE

T WILL arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
^ And a small cabin build there, of clay and

wattles made ;
Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the
honey-bee.
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for pe^tce
comes dropping slow.
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where
the cricket sings ;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple
glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake- water lapping with low sounds by
the shore.
While I stand on the roadway — or on the pave-
ments gray,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.

W. B. Yeats

SOLITUDE t^

Ti^ ED IT ATE as much while on this journey
"^ "*■ as if you were shut up in a hermitage or in
your cell, for wherever we are, wherever we go,
we carry our cell with ua; Brother body is our
cell, txA the soul is the hermit who dwells in it,
there to pray to the Lord and to meditate.

St. Francis of Assist

68 SOLITUDE

'npHE man who is careful to recollect himself
•■• and who puts his confidence in God is oft-
times more recollected in streets and public places
than he who remains shut up in his cell.

Juan de Avila

D E able to be alone. Loose not the advantage
■^^ of Solitude, and the Society of thyself, nor
be only content, but delight to be aloae and single
witli Omniprcaency. He who is thua prepared,
the Day is not uneasy nor the Night black unto
him. Darkness may bound his Eyes, not his
Imagination. In his Bed be may ly, like Pompcy
and his Sons, in all tjuarters of the Earth, may
speculate the Universe, and enjoy the whole World
in the Hermitage of himself. Thus the old
ascelick Christians found a paradise in a Desert,
and with little converse on Earth held a conversa-
tion in Heaven ; thua they astronomized in Caves,
and, though they beheld not the Stare, had the
Glory of Heaven before them.

Sir Thomas Browne

70 DESIRE OF SOLITUDE

HEAVEN— HAVEN

T Have desired to ^
-*- Where springs not fail,
To fields where flies no sharp and sided hail.
And a few lilies blow.

And I have asked to be

Where no storms come^
Where the green swell is in the havens dumb^

And out of dte swing of the sea.

, GEiukRD Hopkins, S.J.

D-ESIRE OF SOLITUDE ^i

IDE of good cheer, then. Let this be always
plain to thee, that this piece of land is like
any other ; and that all things here are the same
with things on the top of a mountain, or on the
sea-shore, or wherever thou choosest to be. For
thou wilt find just what Plato says, << Dwelling
within the walls of a city as in a shepherd's fold

on a mountam."

Marcus Aureuus AwtoNmus

72 DESIRE OF SOLITUDE

/^ ALL wide places, far from feverous towns !
^^ Great shining seas ! pine forests ! mountains

wild!
Rock-bosomed shores ! rough heaths ! and sheep-
cropt downs !
Vast pallid clouds ! blue spaces undefiled !
Room ! give me room ! give loneliness and air !
Free things and plenteous in your regions Blit,

White dove of David, flying overhead.
Golden with sunlight on thy snowy wings,

Outspeeding thee my longing thoughts are fled
To find a home aifar from men and things.

Where in His temple, earth o'erarched with sky,

God's heart to mine may speak, my heart reply.

O God of mountains, stars and boundless spaces!

O God of freedom and of joyous hearts !
When Thy face looketh forth from all men's faces.

There will be room enough in crowded marts ;
Brood Thou around me, and the noise is o'er ;
Thy universe my closet with shut door.

Heart, heart, awake ! the love that loveth all
Maketh a deeper calm than Horeb's cave.

God in thee, can His children's folly gall ?
Love may be hurt, but shall not love be brave ?

Thy holy silence sinks in dews of balm ;

Thou art my solitude, my mountain-calm.

George MacDonald

DESIRE OF SOLITUDE

pHEY seek for themselyes pricate retiring-places,
a country villageg, the sea-shore, mountains ;

yea, ihou thy self ai
places. But all this (thou f
from simplicity in the highes
time soever thou wilt, it is ii
into thyself, and to be at rest.
For 3 man cannot retire an;
at rest, and freer from all busi
aoui. He especially who i
of snch things within, which whensoever he doth
withdraw himself to look in, may presently afford
onto him perfect ease and tranquillity,

Marcus Aurelius Antoninus

} long much after such
lUst know) proceeds
t degree. At what
1 thy power to retire

1 beforehand provided

74 CONVENTS AND SOLITUDE

' I ^HE inward, steady righteousness of Jesus is
-*■ another thing, than all the contrived devotion
of poor superstitious man ; and to stand approved
in the sight of God, excels that bodily exercise
in religion, resulting from the invention of men.
And the soul that is awakened and preserved by His
holy poweT and spirit, lives to Him in the way of
Hi9 own institution, and worships Him in His own
spirit — that is, in the holy sense, life, and leadings
(H it : which indeed is the evangelical worship.

Not that I would be thought to slight a true
retirement: for I do not only acknowledge but
admire solitude. Christ Himself was an example
of it : He loved and chose to frequent mountains,
gardens, sea-sides. It is requisite to the growth of
piety, and I reverence the virtue that seeks and uses
it ; wishing there were more of it in the world ;
but then it should be free, not constrained. ...

Nay, I have long thought it an error among ail
sorts^ that use not monastick lives, that they have
no retreats for the afflicted, the tempted, the
solitary, and the devout; where they might un-
disturbedly wait upon God, pass through their
religious exercises, and being thereby strengthened,
may with more power over their own spirits enter
into the business of the world again : though the
less the better to be sure. For divine pleasures
are found in a free solitude.

WiLLUM Penn

THE SORROW-GIVER 77

TT is God that causeth grief: He measureth out
^ sorrow to us, as well as the misery that causeth it.
He drowneth the Soul in. anguish^ who thought it
bad been impossible for him to have been driven
from rejoycing and delighting in himself. And our
state required! it : we have as much need of the
pain, of the smart, of the grief, as of the affliction
that occasioneth it; if need be, yea, if need be,
only if need be, ye suffer heaviness through many
ten^tations^ for He doth not afflict willingly, nor
grieve the children of men from His heart ; it is
His strange work, not His natural delight.

Isaac Penington

76 SORROW

"^TOW consider first the myrrh. It is bitter;
"^^ and this is a type of the bitterness which
must be tasted before a man can find God, when
he first turns from the world to God, and all his
likings and desires have to be utterly changed. . . .
But there is yet another myrrh which far surpasses
the first. This is the myrrh which God gives us
in the cup of trouble and sorrow, of whatever kind
it may be, outward or inward. Ah, if thou couldst
but receive this niyrrh as from its true source, and
drink it with the sanie love with which Godt puts
it to thy lips, what blessedness would it work in
thee ! And what a joy and peace and an excellent
thing were that ! Yes, the very least and the very
greatest sorrows that God ever suffers to befall
thee, proceed from the depths of His unspeakable
love ; and such great love were better for thee than
the highest and best gifts besides that He has
given thee or ever could give thee, if thou couldst
but see it in this light.

John Tauler

THE SORROW-GIVER 77

TT is God that causeth grief: He measureth out
^ sorrow to us, as well as the misery that causeth it.
He drowneth the Soul in. anguish^ who thought it
had been impossible for him to have been driven
from rejoycing and delighting in himself. And our
state requireth it : we have as much need of the
pain, of the smart, of the grief, as of the affliction
that occasioneth it ; if need be, yea, if peed be,
only if need be, ye suffer heaviness through many
temptations^ for He doth not afflict wilRngly^ nor
grieve the children of men from His heart ; it is
His strange work, not His natural delight.

Isaac Penington

78 IN SORROWFUL MOOD

T GIVE myself to prayer;
•*• Lord, give Thyself to me,
And let the time of my request
Thy time of answer be.

My thoughts are like the reeds.

And tremble as they grow
In the sad current of a life

That darkly runs and slow.

No song is in the air,

But one pervading fear ;
Death's shadow dims my light, and Death

Himself is lurking near.

I am as if asleep.

Yet conscious that I dream ;
Like one who vainly tries to wake

Arid free himself I seem.

The loud distressful cry

With which I call on Thee,
Shall wake me. Lord, to find that Thou

Canst give me liberty.

O, break this darksome spell.

This murky sadness strange ;
Let me the terrors of the night

For cheerful day exchange.

IN SORROWFUL MOOD 79

Freshen the air with wind.

Comfort my heart with song :
Let thoughts be lilies pure, and life

A river bright and strong.

Save me from subtle Death,

Who, serpent-like, by fear
Palsies me for escape, yet .draws
. His trembling victim near*

I give myself to prayer ;

Lord, give Thyself to me,
And ia the time of my distress,,

O, haste and succour me.

Then be my heart, my world,

Re-hallowed unto Thee,
And Thy pervadipg glory, Lord,

O, let me feel and see*

Thomas T, Lynch

8o NATURE COMFORTING

TXT' HEN I no more can stir my soul to move,
^ ^ And life is but the ashes of a fire ;
When I can but remember that my heart
Once used to live and love, long and aspire, —
Oh, be Thou then the first, the one Thou art ;
Be Thou the calling, before all answering love,
And wake in me hope, fear, boundless desire.

I thought that I had lost Thee ; but behold !
Thou comest to me from the horizon low.
Across the fields outspread of green and gold —
Fair carpet for Thy feet to come and go.
Whence I know not, or how to me Thou art

come ! —
Not less my spirit with calm bliss doth glow.
Meeting Thee only thus, in Nature vague and dumb.

George MacDonald

CRUSH NOT MY MIND 8i

f^ODl Thou art mind! unto ihe master-mind
^-^ Mind should be precious. Spare my mind

alone !
All else I will endure ; if as I stand.
Here, with ray gaina, Thy thunder amite mc down,
I bow me i 'tis Thy will, Thy righteous will ;
I o'erpags life's restrictions, and I die ;
And if no trace of my career remain
Save a thin corpse at pleasure of the wind
In thESe bright chambers level with the atr,
See Thou lo it ! But if my spirit fail,
My once proud spirit forsake me at the last.
Hast Thou done well by me ? So do not Thou !
Crush not my mind, dear God, though I be crushed !
Robert Browning

82 THE SORROW OF GOD

'T^HE deeper these thoughts sank within me, the
'^ more complete became my dissatisfaction
with the shallow theories through which human
thinkers have striven to bridge over contradictions
which God has left unreconciled, and to reply to
questions which He has been pleased to leave
unanswered. That death of anguish which
Scripture declares to us to be " necessary," though
it does not explain wherein its dire necessity resides,
convinced me that God was not content to throw, as
moralists and theologians can do so easily, the whole
weight and accountability of sin and suffering upon
man, but was willing, if this burden might not as
yet be removed, to share it with His poor, finite,
heavily burdened creature. When I looked upon
my agonized and dying God, and turned from that
world-appealing sight, Christ crucified for us, to look
upon life's most perplexed and sorrowful contra-
dictions, I was not met as in intercourse with my
fellow-men by the cold platitudes that fall so
lightly from ihe lips of those whose hearts have
never known one real pang, nor whose lives one
crushing blow. I was not told that all things were
ordered for the best, nor assured that the over-
whelming disparities of life were but apparent, but
I was met from the eyes and brow of Him who
was indeed acquainted with grief, by a look of

THE SORROW OF G06 83

solemn reGognitiony such as may pass between
friends who have endured between them some
strange and secret sorrow, and are through it united
in a bond that cannot be broken,

Dora Greenwell

84 THE SORROW OF GOD

npHERE is no suffering in the world but
'*' ultimately comes to be endured by God.

A. T. QuiLLER Couch

FRUITFUL SORROW 85

T OVE, too, blossoms out
'■^ More perfectly from agony and doubt ;
Hath wider ranges, and a kind of laugh
At human things in him : in short, can quaff
Easier of joy ; can grasp the world and use ;
Is kindlier to all living life ; would lose
Not one process of nature ; but o'erspreads
In genial current all things ; hath no dreads.
No hates, no self-tormenting ; cherishes.
Blesses, and gives great teaching, for it frees :
Thus much more precious is love's after-birth.

Richard Watson Dixon

86 . . THE ANSWER

T HAVE no answer for myself or thee,

^ Save that I learned beside my mother's knee ;

" All is of God that is, and is to be ;

And God is good." Let this suffice us still,.
Resting in childlike trust upon His will
Who moves to His great ends unthwarted by the
ill.

John Greenleaf WHimtR

LOVE'S PERFECTION

T OVE is indeed Heaven upon Earth !

^-^ Heaven above would not be Heaven without

What we Love, we'll Hear ; what we Love, we'll
Trust ! and what we Love, we'll Serve, ay, and
Suffer for too. If you love Me (says our Blessed
Redeemer) keep My Commandments, Why i
Why, then He'll Love us ; then we shall be His
Frirads ; then He'll send us the Comforter ; then
whatsoever we ask, we ehall receive t and then
where He la we shall be also, and that for e'

Love is above ull ; and when it prevails in us all,
we shall all be Lovely, and in Love with God and
one with another. Amen.

88 THE UNRUFFLED SOUL

/^F Juan de Avila it is said that his perfect
^^ serenity was most striking ; however multi-
farious his occupations, however uncongenial t^e
persons with whom his duties brought him in con-
tact, he was ever serene.

He seemed always as though he had just issued
forth from a long and fervent prayer, and his very
look was enough to edify men.

Spanish Mystics

THE PRESENCE OF GOD

A CCUSTOM yourself gradually to let yoSf
mental prayer sjiread over alJ your daily
external occupations. Speak, act, work quietly,
ys though you were praying, aa indeed you ought
to be,

Do everything without esciicment, simply in the
spirit of grace. So soon as you perceive natural
activity gliding !□, recall youriielf quietly into the
Presence of God. Hearken to what the leadings
of grace prompt, and say and do nothing but
what God's Holy Spirit teaches. Yoii will find
yourself infinitely more quiet, your words will be
fewer and more effectual, .ind while doing less what
you do will be more profitable. It is not a question
of a hopeless mental activity, but a question of
acquirlDg a quietude and peace in which you readily
advise with your Beloved as to all you have to do.

90 THE INNER PEACE

'T^HERE are in this loud stunning tide
-*- Of human care and crime
With whom the melodies abide

Of the everlasting chime,
Who carry music in their heart
Through dusky lane and wrangling mart.
Plying their daily task with busier feet
Because their secret souls a holy strain repeat.

Keble

THE SECRET OF PEACE 91

/CONSIDER that everything is opinion, and
^^ opinion is in thy power. Take away then,
when thou choosest, thy opinion, and like a
mariner, who has doubled the promontory, thou wilt
6nd calm, everything stable, and a waveless bay.

Marcus Aurelius Antoninus

92 PEACE

''^T O W he who will in love give his whole diligence
-^^ and might thereto, will verily come to know
that true eternal peace which is God Himself, as
far as that is pos»ble to a creature ; insomuch that
what was bitter to him before shall become sweet,
and his heart shall remain unmoved under all
changes, at all times, and after this life he shall
attain unto everlasting peace.

Theologia Germanica

'T'HOU gayest unto me
■* No sign ! I knew do loving secret, told
As oft to men beloved, and I must fiolil
My peace when these would speak of cocversc

highs
Jesus, ray Master, yet T would be nigh
When these would speak, and in the words rejoice
Of them who listen to the Bridegroom's voice.
Thou gaveat unto me
No goodly gift, no pearl of price untold,
No signet-ring, no ruby shut in gold,
No chain around my neck to wear for pride.
For love no token in my breast to hide i
Yea! these, perchance, from out my carelesi hold
Had slipped, perchance some robber shrewd and

bold
Had snatched them from me ! so Thou didst pro-

For me, my Master kind,/roHi day to Hay ;

And in this world, Thine inn, Thou bad'st me

stay.
And saidst,— " What ihou -Bpendest, I will pay."

I never beard Thee say,

" Bring forth the robe for this My son, the beet ; "

Thou gavest not to nie, as unto guest

Approved, a festal mantle rich and gay ;

Still singing, ever singing, in the cold
■ Thou leavest me, without Thy Door to stay i
t Now the Night diaweth on, the Day is old.

94 PATffiNCE

And Thou hast never said, — "Come in, My

friend,"—
Yet once, yea twice, methinks Thy love did send
A secret message, — "Bless'd unto the end
Are they that love and they that still endure."
Jesus, my Saviour, take to thee Thy poor,
Take home Thy humble friend.

Dora Greenwell

"What is thLit CO thee? follow thou Me."

T IE stit], my restive heart, lie still :

^-^ God's Word to thee anith " Wait and bi-ar."

The good which He appoints is good.

The good which He denies were ill :

Yea, subtle comfort is thy care.

Thy hurt a help not understood.

" Friend, go up higher," to one : to one,

" Friend, enter thou My joy," He saith ;

To one, " Be faithful unto death."

For Bonte a wilderness doth flower,

Or day's work in one hour is done :■ —

" But thou, couldat thou not watch one hour?"

Lord, I had chosen another lot,
But then 1 had not chosen well ;
Thy choice and only Thine is good :
No different lot, search heaven or heM,
Had blessed me, fully understood.
None other ; which Thou orderest not.

Christina Roseetti

96 ANGER

/^H, make my anger pure— let no worst vrrong
^^ Rouse in me the old niggard selfishness.
Give me Thine indignation — which is love
Turned on the evil that would part lovers throng ;
Thy anger scathes because it needs must bless.
Gathering into union calm and strong
All things on earth, and under, and above.

Make my forgiveness downright — such as I
Should perish if I did not have from Thee ;
I let the wrong go, withered up and dry.
Cursed with divine forgetfulness in me.
'Tis but self-pity, pleasant, mean and sly.
Low whispering bids the paltry memory live : —
What am I brother for, but to forgive ?

Lord, T forgive — and step in unto The^,

George MAcDoNiU^D

ORDER 97 1

tpAR among the londy hille, ^^^H
" As I lay beside my »heep, ^^^^^|

Rest came do

wn upon my loul, ' ,^^^^H

From the

verlasting deep. ^^^^^H

ChangeicBs m

rch the stars above, ^H

Changeleiis

morn succeeds to even ; ^M

And the everlastine hills ^|

Changeless

watch the changeless heaven. H

) Set- the rivers

how they run, ^M

Changeless

to the changeless sea ; ^^^^|

1 Ail around is

forethought sure, -^^^^^H

Fixed will

and stern decree. ^^^^^|

Can the sailo

Will the potter heed the clay i ^^^H

Mortal 1 where the Spirit drives, l^^^^^l

Thither m

ast the wheels obey. ^^^^^|

t Neither ask,

^^H

Where thy path is, thou shall go. ' J^^^^l

He who mad

e the stream* of time ^^^^H

Wafts thee

down to weal or woe. ^|

98 FEAR

p^ RE Mor the Peacock flutters, ere the Monkey
•*^ People cry,

Ere Chil the Kite swoops down a furlong sheer,
Through the Jungle very softly flits a Shadow
and a sigh —
He is Fear, O Little Hunter, he is Fear I
Very softly down the glade runs a waiting, watch-
ing shade,
And the whisper spreads and widens far and
near;
And the sweat is on thy brow, for he passes even
now —
He is Fear, O Little Hunter, he is Fear !

Ere the Moon has climbed the mountain, ere the
rocks are ribbed with light,
When the downward-dipping tails are dank and
drear ;
Comes a breathing hard behind thee, snuffle-
snuffle through the night —
It is Fear, O Little Hunter, it is Fear !
On thy knees and draw the bow, bid the shrilling
arrow go ;
In the empty mocking thicket plunge the spear ;
But thy hanas are loosed and weak, and the blood
has left thy cheek —
It is Fear, O Little Hunter, it is Fear !

FEAR 99

When the heat-cloud sucks the tempest, when the
slivered pine trees fall,
When the olinding, blaring rain-squalls lash and
veer;
Through the trumpets of the thunder rings a voice
more loud than all —
It ifi Fear, O Little Himter, it is Fe^ I -^

Now the spates are . banked and deep ; now the
footless bould^rfr leap i
Now the lightning shows each littlest leaf-rib
dear;
But thy diroat is shut and dried, and thy heart
against thy side
Hammers : Fear, O Little Hunter— this is Fear !

RuDYARD Kipling

icx) FEAR

T O ! now thy swift dogs, over stobe and bush,
""^ ' After me, straying sheep, loud barking rush.
There's Fear^ and Shame^ and Empty'^heart^ and

Lacky
And Lost-iove, and a thousand at their hack !
I see thee not, but know thou hound'st them on.
And I am lost indeed — escape is none*
See! there they come, down streaming on' my

track !

I rise and run, staggering — double and run. —
But whither ? whither ? whither for escape ?
The sea lies all about this long-necked cape —
There come the dogs, straight for me every one —
Me, live despair, live centre of alarms ! —
Ah ! lo ! 'twixt me and all his barking harms,
The Shepherd, lo ! — I run — fill folded in His
Arms.

George MacDonald

FEAR

lot

. • I .

. ■ t

I . J'

HAT time I am afraid I will trust in Thee.

BwK of Psalms. .

I02 THE ONE WAY

npHERE is one way for thee 5 but one; inform
-■* Thyself of it; pursue it; one way each
Soul hath by which the infinite in reach
Lieth before him ; seek and ye shall find :
To each the way is plain ; ^hat way the wind
Points all the trees along ; that way run down
Loud singing streams ; that way pour on and on
A thousand headlands with their cataracts
Of toppling flowers ; that way the sun enacts
His travel, and the moon and all the stars
Soar ; and the tides move towards it ; nothing

bars
A man who goes the way that he should go ;
That which comes soonest is the thing to do. ^
Thousand light-shadows in the rippling sand
Joy the true soul ; the waves along the strand
Whiten beyond his eyes ; the trees tossed back
Show him the sky ; or, heaped upon his track
In a black wave, wind heaped, point onward still
His one, one way. O joy, joy, joy, to fill
The day with leagues ! Go thy way, all things

say.
Thou hast thy way to go, thou hast thy day
To live ; thou hast thy need of thee to make
In the hearts of others ; do thy thing j yes, slake
The world's great thirst for yet another man !
And be thou sure of this ; no other can
Do for thee that appointed thee of God ;
Not any light shall shine upon thy road
For other eyes ;

THE ONE WAY 103

Thee the angel calls,
As he calls others ; and thy life to thee
Is precious as the greatest's life can be
To him ; so live thy life and go thy way.

Richard Watson Dixon

I04 THE DUTY OF JOY

T SLEEP, I eat and drink, I read and meditate, I
'■' walk in my neighbour's pleasant fields, and see
the varieties of natural beauties, and delight in all
that in which God delights — that is, in virtue and
wisdom, in the whole creation, and in God Himself.
And he that hath so many causes of joy, and so
great, is very much in love with sorrow and
peevishness, who loses all these pleasures, and
chooses to sit down upon his little handful of
thorns.

Jeremy Taylor

THE DUTY OF JOY 105

THE CELESTIAL SURGEON

IF I have faltered move or IcfiS

In my great task of happiness ;
If I have moved among my race
And shown no glorious nioroing face ;
If beams from happy human eyes
Have moved me not ; if morning skies,
Books, and my food, and summer rain
Knocked at my sullen heart in vain :—
Lord, Thy most pointed pleasure take,
And Blab my spirit broad awake ;
Or, Lord, if coo obdurate 1,
Choose Thou before tha.t spirit die,
Ik piercing pain, a killing sin,

a my dead heart run ihem in !

Robert Louis Stevensc

96 ANGER

/^H, make my anger pure — let no worst wrong
^^ Rouse in me the old niggard selfishness.
Give me Thine indignation — which is love
Turned on the evil that would part love's throng ;
Thy anger scathes because it needs must bless,
Gathering into union calm and strong
All things on earth, and under, and above.

Make my forgiveness downright — such as I
Should perish if I did not have from Thee ;
I let the wrong go, withered up and dry,
Cursed with divine forgetfulness in me.
*Tis but self-pity, pleasant, mean and sly.
Low whispering bids the paltry naemory live : —
What am I brother for, but to forgive ?
. . • . • • •

Lord, I forgive — and step in unto Thee.

George l/UcDovAt^D

THE DUTY OF JOY: 107

D EST are they

-^ Who lotre their life in all things: is not life

Its own fulfilment ? , ./'

True souls, always are hilarious ;
They see the way-marks on their exodus
From better unto better : still they say,
Lo ! the new law, when old things pass away ;
Still keep themselves well guarded, nothing swerve
From the great purposies to which they serve
Scarce knowingly ; still smile and take delight
In arduous things, as brave men when they fight
Take joy in feeling one another's might.

Richard Watson Dixon

98 FEAR

P^ RE Mor the Peacock flutters^ ere the Monkey
'^ People cry,

Ere Chil the Kite swoops down a furlong sheer,
Through the Jungle very softly flits a Shadow
and a sigh —
He is Fear, O Little Hunter, be is Fear !
Very softly down the glade runs a waiting, watch-
ing shade,
And the whisper spreads and widens far and
near;
And the sweat is on thy brow, for he passes even
now —
He is Fear, O Little Hunter, he is Fear !

Ere the Moon has climbed the mountain, ere the
rocks are ribbed with light.
When the downward-dipping tails are dank and
drear ;
Comes a breathing hard behind thee, snuffle-
snuffle through the night —
It is Fear, O Little Hunter, it is Fear !
On thy knees and draw the bow, bid the shrilling
arrow go 5
In the empty mocking thicket plunge the spear ;
But thy hands are loosed and weak, and the blood
has left thy cheek —
It is Fear, O Little Hunter, it is Fear !

FEAR 99

When the heat-cloud sucks the tempest, when the
slivered pine trees fall,
When the blinding, blaring rain-squalls lash and
veer;
Through the trumpets of the thunder rings a voice
more loud than all —
It ia Fear, D Little Hunter, it is Fe^r !
Now the spates are . banked and deep ; now the
footless bouldera leap i ...

Now the lightning shows each littlest leaf-rib
clear;
But thy throat is shut and dried, and thy heart
against thy side
Hammers : Fear, O Little Hunter— this is Fear !

RuDYARD Kipling

loo FEAR

T O ! now thy swift dogs, over stohe and bush,
-^ '• Aft^r me, straying sheep, loud barking rush/
There's Featy and Shame^ and Empty^heart^ and

And Lost'love^ and a thousand at their hack !
I see thee not, but know thou hound' st them on, ^
And I am lost indeed — escape is none« -
See ! there they come, down streaming on* my
track!

George MacDonald

FEAR

lot

. . » •

' i I

HAT time I ain afraid I will trust in Thee.

B90I of Psalms. .

I02 THE ONE WAY

TpHERE is one way for thee ; but one ; inform
* Thyself of it ; pursue it ; one way each
Soul hath by which the infinite in reach
Lieth before him ; seek and ye shall find :
To each the way is plain ; ^at way the wind
Points all the trees along ; that way run down
Loud singing streams ; that way pour on and on
A thousand headlands with their cataracts
Of toppling flowers ; that way the sun enacts
His travel, and the moon and all the stars
Soar; and the tides move towards it; nothing

bars
A man who goes the way that he should go ;
That which comes soonest is the thing to do.
Thousand light-shadows in the rippling sand
Joy the true soul ; the waves along the strand
Whiten beyond his eyes ; the trees tossed back
Show him the sky ; or, heaped upon his track
In a black wave, wind heaped, point onward still
His one, one way. O joy, joy, joy, to fill
The day with leagues ! Go thy way, all things

THE ONE WAY 103

Thee the angel calls,
As he calls others ; and thy life to thee
Is precious as the greatest's life can be
To him ; so live thy life and go thy way.

Richard Watson Dixon

I04 THE DUTY OF JOY

T SLEEP, I eat and drink, I read and meditate, I
^ walk in my neighbour's pleasant fields, and see
the varieties of natural beauties, and delight in all
that in which God delights — that is, in virtue and
wisdom, in the whole creation, and in God Himself.
And he that hath so many causes of joy, and so
great, is very much in love with sorrow and
peevishness, who loses all these pleasures, and
chooses to sit down upon his little handful of
thorns.

Jeremy Taylor

HE CELESTIAL SURGEON

IF I have faltered more or less

In my great task of happiness ;
If I have moved among my race
And shown no glorious morning face ;
If beams from happy human eyes
Have moved me not ; if morning akies,
Books, and my food, and summer rain
Knocked at my sullen heart in vain ; —
Lord, Thy moat pointed pleasure take,
And stab my spirit broad awake i
Or, Lord, if too obdurate I,
Choose Thou before that spirit die,
\ pieiclng pain, a killing sin,

my dead heart run them in !

RoBBRT Louis STEveNso

io6 THE DUTY OF JOY

"OEJOICE with them that do rejoice."
-''^ Little thing as this seems, it still is ex-
ceeding great, and requireth for it the spirit of true
wisdom. And we might find many that perform
the more irksome part, and yet want vigour for
this. For many weep with them that weep, but
still do not rejoice with them that rejoice. • • .
So great is the tyranny of a grudging spirit.

STi Chrysostom

THE DUTY OF JOY 107

D EST are they

■^ Who love their life in all things : ia not life

Its own fullilment i

True BOula always are hilarious ;
They see the way-marks on their exodus
From hetter unto better : Btit] they Bay,
Lo ! the new law, when old things pass away ;
Still keep themselves well guarded, nothing swerve
From the great purposes to which they serve
Scarce knowingly ; still smile and take delight
In arduous thingE, as brave men when they light
Take joy in feeling one another's might.

Richard Watson Dixon

io8 THE REDEEMED JOY

"/^OD leads us by our own desires," after we
^-^ have once offered the sacrifice of them
with full sincerity. The " ruling love," the best*
beloved good, which we offer to slay, as Abraham
did Isaac, that very good is given back to us
glorified and made indeed the thing which we
desired. We have, with the "Wise Men,*' to
leave our own people and our father's house, before
we can see **Je8US with His Mother," but, after
that, God bids us ** ga back another way into our
own country.**

Coventry Patmore

■ — 1

_ J

qpo

rust God witii all one is, or hopes for for ^M

ver, this ia True Faith. To trust God H

with Body, Soul, Spirit; with His Promises, with ■

His Covenant of Grace, with Hie Christ, with any- ■

thing whereby I might secure myseif from being ^|

subject

to His pleasure; this is Fatth in good ^1

this is Faith founded upon true know- H

ledge:

He knoweth God indeed, who dareth ■

thus tn

St Him. Let others trust God /or Saha- ■

lion, bu

t my spirit can never rest, till it dares trust ^|

God with Safvalion. ■

I^c P..„o™« ■

icx) FEAR

T O ! now thy swift dogs, over fitoheand bush,
-*^ • Aft^r me, straying sheep, loud barking niah/'
There's Fear^ and Shame^ ^d Empty^heart^ and

And Lost'lovcy and a thousand at their hack !
I see thee not, but know thou Iraund'st them on, >
And I am lost indeed — escape is nonei
See! there they come, down streaming on- my
track!

George MacDonald

REST IN GOD

tJAVING oQce dedicated, and lovingly resigned
*■ ^ thyself to the will of God, there is nothing
else for thee to do but to continue in the same,
without repeating new and sensible acts, provided
thou takest not back, the jewel thou hast once given,
by committing some notable fault against Hia
Divine Will : though thou oughiesi still to exerciee
thyself outwardly in the external work of thy
calling and state, for in so doing thou doest the
Will of God, and walkest in continual and virtual
praying.

lie alwayr prayt, said Theophykct, iv6« daei
good •werh, nor Hou h« ncgUcI prayer hut vihen
ht leaves off' la be juil.

MlGUEl. MOUNOS

102 THE ONE WAY

TpHERE is one way for thee ; but one ; inform
'■' Thyself of it; pursue it; one way each
Soul hath by which the infinite in reach
Lieth before him ; seek and ye shall find :
To each the way is plain ; ^at way the wind
Points all the trees along ; that way run down
Loud singing streams; that way pour on and on
A thousand headlands with their cataracts
Of toppling flowers ; that way the sun enacts
His travel, and the moon and all the stars
Soar; and the tides move towards it; nothing

say,
Thou hast thy way to go, thou hast thy day
To live ; thou hast thy need of thee to make
In the hearts of others ; do thy thing j yes, slake
The world's great thirst for yet another man !
And be thou sure of this ; no other can
Do for thee that appointed thee of God ;
Not any light shall shine upon thy road
For other eyes ;

THE ONE WAY 103

Thee the angel callsy
As he calls others ; and thy life to thee
Is precious as the greatest's life can be
To him ; so live thy life and go thy way.

Richard Watson Dixon

I04 THE DUTY OF JOY

T SLEEP) I eat and drink, I read and meditate, I
'^ walk in my neighbour's pleasant fields, and see
the varieties of natural beauties, and delight in all
that in which God delights — that is, in virtue and
wisdom, in the whole creation, and in God Himself.
And he that hath so many causes of joy, and so
great, is very much in love with sorrow and
peevishness, who loses all these pleasures, and
chooses to sit down upon his little handful of
thorns.

Jeremy Taylor

THE CELESTIAL SURGEON

IF I have faltered moi-e or less

In my great task of happiness j
If I have moved among my race
And shown no glorious morning face ;
If beams from happy human eyes
Have moved me not ; i f morning skies.
Books, and my Food, and summer rain
Knocked at my sullen heart in vain : — -
Lord, Thy most pointed pleasure take,
Aod stab my epirit broad awake ;
Or, Lord, if too obdurate I,
Choose Thou Ijefore that spirit die,
A piercing pain, a killing sin.
And to my dead heart run them in !

Robert Louis Stevenso

io6 THE DUTY OF JOY

"OEJOICE with them that do rejoice.'*
''•^ Little thing as this seems, it still is ex-
ceeding great, and requireth for it the spirit of true
wisdom. And we might find many that perform
the more irksome part, and yet want vigour for
this. For many: weep with them that weep, but
still do not rejoice with them that rejoice. • . .
So great is the tyranny of a grudging spirit.

SXi Chrysostom

THE DUTY OF JOY 107

BEST are they
Who love their life In ^1 things : ia not life
Its own fulfilment '.

True souls always are hilarious ;
They see the way-marka on their exodus
From better unto better ; still they say,
Lo ! the new law, when old things pass away ;
Still keep thcmseives well guarded, nothing swerve
From the great purposes to which they serve
Scarce knowingly; still smile and lake delight
In arduous things, as brave nien when they light
Take joy in feeling one another's might.

Richard Watson Dixon

1 18 THE GREAT HOPE

A ND then at last, when aU is done, when
■^^ wholly finifihed, then the meaning of all these,
things, the mystery of God, God in the mystery, the
mystery in God, shall be opened : And then, Eteraal
Joy, Everlasting Life stall break forth. Flesh shall
gricTe no more, feel no more, complain no more,
when the fire hath spent its whole force upon it :
The Spirit shall suffer no more in flesh or because
of flesh, when flesh is made a meet companion for
it. When everything in God appears, when every-
thing appears as it is in God, in that excellency,
perfection, universal love and loveliness, that greater
cannot be : When every Creature shall see it was
ever tendered, even when it seemed most neglected ;
it was improved to the best advantage, when it
seemed moat cast off ; it could never have wished
so well for itself, as it is provided for j its Death,
Life, Misery, Happiness, were all acted under a
vail, and were none of them what it took them to be,
but wereallofthem what it was best for it they should
be : Then shall Glory shine round about Him, who
is what none else is, who works as none els
Isaac Penh

]

ege ■

the M

THE GREAT HOPE 119

T OVEy love that once for all did agonize^
^^ Shall conquer all things to itself 1 if late
Or soon this falli I ask not nor surmise, —
And when ray God is waiting I can wait !

Dora Green well

120 THE GREAT HOPE

TpHE assurance that the righteous Creator can
'■' never cease to desire and urge the righteousness
of Hia creature is the eternal ho|>e for man, atid the
secure rest for the soul that appfeh^nds ht t^or if
this be Hia purpose for otie> it muirt be Hia pttfpose
for all. I believe that it is Hia pUrpoae fof all, and
that He will persevere in ^t until it is accomplished
in ail.

Thomas Erskine of Linlathen

THE GREAT HOPE 121

"TpHEN life is — to wake, not sleep,
■'■ Rise and not rest, but press
Ffom earth's level, wliere blindly creep

Things perfected, more or leas.
To the heaven's height, far and steep.

Where, amid what strifes and atorms
May wait the adventurous quest.

Power is Love — transports, transforms
Who aspired from worst to best.

Sought the soul's world, spumed the wor

I have faith such end shall be ;

From the first, Power was — I knew.
Life has made clear to me

That, strive but for closer view,
Lore were as plain to see.

When see ! When there dawns a day,

If not on the homely earth.
Then yonder, worlds away.

Where the strange and new have birth.
And Power comes full in play.

Robert Browning

122 THE PRAYING LIFE

pjE [the Christian] will pray in every place,
'■■•*' but not openly to be seen ^f men. He
prays in every situation, in his walks for recrea-
tion, in his intercourse with others, in silence,
in reading, in all rational pursuits. And although
he is only thinking of God in the little chamber
of the soul, and calHng upon his Father with
silent aspirations, God is near him and with
him while he is yet speaking.

St. Clement of Alexandria

PRAYER

IF thou love thine health, if thou desire to be
sure from the grennes ' of the devil, from
the storms of this world, from the await of thine
eoemies, if thou long to be acceptable to God,
if thou covet to be happy at the lust ; let no
day pass thee but thou ooce at the least wise
preaeot thyaeif to God by prayer, and falling down
before Him flat to the grouod with ao humble
affect of devout mind, not from the extremity at
thy lips, but out of the inwardness of thine heart,
cry theae words of the prophet, " Delicta
juventutis mex et ignoraotias meas n
Sed secundum misericordiajn tuam i
propter bonitatcni tuam Domine," " The offences
of my youth and mine ignorances remember not,
good Lord, but after Thy mercy. Lord, of Thy
goodness, remember me."

GlOVANSf P[CQ DELLA MlRANDOI-A

124 PRAYER

COME think that because St. Paul said, <«I
^ would have men pray in every place," it
is therefore unnecessary to pray in any particular
place, but that it suffices to interlace our prayer
with the rest of our works. And a good thing
it is to pray in all places, but that will not suffice
us if We would imitate Jesus Christ our Lord,
and practise that which His saints have done in
regaifd tb prayer. For be thbu well assured
that rib Man will be able to pfay with profit in
every place unless first he have ieamt to pray
in a fatficular place and to employ some space
of time therein.

Juan de Avila

PRAYER

'25

I 'npHE painful sense and feeling of what you are,

' * kindled into a working State of Kenaibility

by the Light of God within you, is the Fire

and Light from whence your Spirit of Prayer

proceed. In its first kindling nothing \t found

or fell but Pain, Wrath, and Darkness, as is

to be seen In the first kindling of every Heat

or Fire. And therefore its first Prayer is nothing

else but a sense of Penitence, Self-condemnation,

Confession, and Humility. This Prayer of

Humility is met by the Divine Love, the

Mercifulness of God embraces it: and then its

■! prayer is changed into H3'mns and Songs and

Thanksgivings. When this State of Fervour has

done its Work, has melted away all eartliiy

■ Passions and Affections, and left no Inclination

I in the Soul, but to delight in God alone — then

I its Prayer changes again. It is now come so

ij near to God, has found such Union with Him,

that it does not to much pray as live in God.

, Its Prayer is not any particular action, is not

, the Work of any particular faculty, not confined

i to Times, or Words, or Place, but is the Work

I of his whole Being, which continually stands in

1 Fulness of Faith, in Purity of Love, in absolute

1 Resignation, to do, and be, what and how his

Beloved pieaacfl. 'i'his is the last State of the

Spirit of Prayer, and its highest Union with God

'a this Life.

William Law

126 PRAYER

pRAYER 18 an act, performed at set times,
^ in certain forms of words; but prayer is
also a spirit, which need not be expressed in
words, the spirit of contentment and resignation,
of active goodness and benevolence, of modesty
and truthfulness. It is the spirit which lives
above the world, in communion with a higher
principle, which is always working a work
("laborare est orare") and always going on in
the search after a higher truth. It is the spirit
of devotion and self-sacrifice which aspires in some
way or other to be a saviour of mankind.

He who has this spirit, whether consciously or
unconsciously, whether he be a man of science or
a minister of a church, is a Christian in heart, by
whatever term he may be called, or of whatever
sect he may call himself. For men are to be
judged not by their opinions but their lives ; not by
what they say or do, but by what they are.

Benjamin Jowett

PRAYER 127

DRAY often, and you shall pray oftener.

Order your private devotions so, that they
become not arguments and causes of tedious-
ness by their indiscreet length ; but reduce your
words into a narrower compass, still keeping all
the matter, and what is cut off in the length of
your prayers, supply in the earnestness of your
spirit; for so nothing is lost, while the words
are changed into matter, and length of time into
fervency of devotion.

Jeremy Taylor

1 28 PRAYER AND MEDITATION

TN prayer the soul renews its youth and regains
'*' its freshness.

ft
• •••••

In meditation let the person rouse himself from
things temporal, and let him collect himself within
himself — ^that is to say, within the very centre of
his soul, where lies impressed the very image of
God. Here let him hearken to the voice of God
as though speaking to him from on high, yet
present m his soul, as though there were no other
m the world save God and himself.

San Pedro de Alcantara

pVERY creature hath acme kind of sense of
it8 atate : it feeleth its weakness, its wants,
its misery. It hath some sense of that Power
from which it came, who provideth for it, who
is leading it aome whither : And it cannot hut
cry and complain to this Power, according to
what it {ee\a and desires. The young Ravens
cry to it for food ; The whole creation groaneth
and panteth to it, to be delivered from its bondage.
Man, as he hath a clearer light than these, so
he hath more clear addresses to it. . . ,

By Prayer, I do not mean any bodily exercise
of the outward man ; but the going furth of the
Spirit of life towards the Fountain of Life, for
fulness and satisfaction ; The natural tendency
of the poor, rent, derived spirit, towards the
Fountain of spirits.

liAAC Penington

I30 PRAYER

TTITHEN I stir thee to prayer, I stir thee not to
^ ^ the prayer which standeth in many words,
but to that prayer which in the secret chamber of
the mind, in the privy closet of the soul with very
affect speaketh to God, and in the most lightsome
darkness of contemplation not 6nly presenteth the
mind to the Father : but also uniteth it with Him
by unspeakable wayes which only they know that
have assayed. Nor I care not how long or how
short thy prayer be, but how effectual, how ardent,
and rather interrupted and broken between with
sighs than drawn on length with a continual row
and number of words.

Giovanni Pico della Mirandola

TF you were to use yourself (as far as you can)
* to pray always in the same place ) if you were
to rcKrve that place for devotion, and not allow
yourself to do anything common in it; if you were
never to be there yourself, but in times of devotion ;
if any little room, (or if that cannot be) if any
particular part of a room was thus used, this kind
of consecration of ii, its a place holy unto God,
would have an elfect upon your mind, and dispoE?
you to such tempers, as would very much assist
your devotion. For by having a place thus sacred
in your room, it would in some measure resemble a
chapel or house of God. This would dispose you
to be always in the spirit of religion when you
were there ; and fill you with wise and holy
thoughts when you were by yourself. Your own
apartment would raise in your mind such sentiments
as you have when you stand near an altar ; and you
would be afraid of thinking or doing anything that
was foolish near that plact which is the place of
prayer and holy intercourse with God.

WiLUAM Law

tJERE it is thou must not think thy own
■*-■*■ thoughts, nor speak thy own words, which
indeed ia the silence of the holy cross, but be
sequestered from all the confused imaginations that
are apt to throng and press upon the mind in those
holy retirements. It ie not for thee to think to over-
come the Almighty by the most composed matter,
cast into the aptest phrase, no, no ; one groan, one
sigh from a wounded soul, an heart touched with
true remorse, a sincere and godly sorrow, which is
the work of God's Spirit, excels and prevails with
God. Wherefore stand still in thy mind, wait to
feel something that is divioe to prepare and dispose
thee to worship God truly and acceptably. And
thus taking up the cross, and shutting the doors and
windows of the soul against everything that would
interrupt this attendance upon God, how pleasant
soever the object be in itself, how lawful or needful
at another season, the power of the Almighty will
break in. His Spirit will work and prepare the heart,
that it may offer up an acceptable sacrifice.

William Penn

BUSINESSE

pANST be idle ; canat thou play,
^-^ Foolish soul who sinned to-d:iy .'

Rivers run, and springs each ohl'
Know their home, and gel tliem gone :
Hast thou tears, or hast thou none ?

IF, poare soul, thou hast no tears,
Would thou hadsi no faults or fears !
Who hath these, those ill forbears.

He that loseth gold, thougli diosse,
Tells to all he meets, his erossc :
He that sins, hath he no losse ?

He that finds a Eilyer vein
Thinks on it, and thinks again :
Brings thy Saviour's death ao gain i

1 34 RECOLLECTION

T THINK you should try, without any painful
'*' efFort, to dwell upon God as often as a longing
for recollection, and regret that you cannot cultivate
it more, comes over you. It will not do to wait
for disengaged seasons, when you can close your
door and be alone. The moment in which we
crave after recollection is that in which to practise
it ; turn your heart then and there to God, simply,
familiarly and trustfully. The most interrupted
seasons may be used thus ; not merely when you
are out driving, but when you are dressing, having
your hair arranged — even when you are eating, and
when others are talking. Useless and tiresome
details in conversation will afford you similar op-
portunities : instead of wearying you, or exciting
your ridicule, they will give you time for recollec-
tion ; and thus all things turn to good for those
who love God.

From Letter to the Countess de Gramont — F£n£L0N

THE WAY 135

VIA, ET VERITAS, ET VITA

" yj'OV never attained to Him." " If to attain

^ Be to abide, then that may be."
** Endless the way, followed with how much pain 1 "
" The way was He."

Alice Meynell

136 GROWTH IN GRACE

Ty^HERE men are enlightened with the true
^^ light, they . . . renounce all desire and
choice, and commit and commend themselves and
all things to the Eternal Goodness. Nevertheless,
there remaineth in them a desire to go forward and
get nearer to the Eternal Goodness; that is^ to
come to a clearer knowledge, and warmer love, and
more comfortable assurance, and perfect obedience
and subjection ; so that every enlightened man
could say : "I would fain be to the Eternal Good-
ness, what his own hand is to a man."

Theologia Germanica

NOT I, BUT HE 137

LORD JESUS, who would think that I am
Thine ?
Ah ! who would think,
Who sees me ready to turn back or sink,
That Thou art mine ?

I cannot hold Thee fast tho' Thou art mine :

Hold Thou me fast,
So earth shall know at last and heaven at last

That I am Thine.

Christina Rossetti

138 THE ETERNAL CHILD

' I ^HE mortal man, all careful, wise and troubled,
'■' The eternal child in the nursery doth keep.
To-morrow on to-day the man heaps doubled ;
The child laughs, hopeful, even in his sleep.
The man rebukes the child for foolish trust ;
The child replies, " Thy care is for poor dust ;
Be still and let me wake that thou mayst sleep.

»9

Till I am one, with oneness manifold,

I must breed contradiction, strife and doubt ;

Things tread Thy court, look real — take proving

hold—
My Christ is not yet grown to cast them out ;
Alas ! to me, false-judging 'twixt the twain.
The Unseen oft fancy seems, while, all about.
The Seen doth lord it with a mighty train.

But when the Will hath learned obedience royal,
He straight will set the child upon the throne ;
To whom the seen things all, grown instant loyal.
Will gather to his feet, in homage prone —
The child their master they have ever known :
Then shall the visible fabric plainly lean
On a Reality that never can be seen.

George MacDonald

EIGH all my faults and follies righteously,

Otniai

and

Make deep the scale, O Lord, to weigh them in;
Yea, set the Accuser vulture-eyed to see
All loads ingathered which belong to me ;
That so in lite the judgement may begin,
And Angels learn how hard it is to win
One solitary siniiil seal to Thee,
I have no merits for a counterpoise :

Oh vanity my work and hastening day,
What can I answer to the accusing voice !

Lord, drop Thou in the counterscale alone
One drop from Thine own Heart, ai

My guilt, my folly, even my heart of st
Ross

I40 THE SHEPHERD

T^EED My sheep.

^ Not to priests only is this said, but to every
one of us also, who are also entrusted with a little
flock. For do not despise it, because it is a little
flock. For "My Father," He saith, "hath
pleasure in them." Each of us hath a sheep, let
him lead that to the proper pastures.

St. Chrysostom

PATIENCE WITH SELF 141

pEOPLE who love themselves aright, even as
^ they ought to love their neighbour, bear
charitably, though without flattery, with self as
with another^ They know what needs correction
at home a^^ well as elsewhere ; they strive heartily
and vigorously to correct it, but they deal with self
as they would deal with some one else they wished
to bring to God. They set to work patiently, not
exacting more than is practicable under present
circumstances from themselves any more than from
others, and not being disheartened because perfec-
tion is not attainable in a day.

F^NELON

142 A SOUL'S HEALING

'T^HO' thou hast been so ** thirty and eight
'*' years/' and art earnest to become whole,
there is no one to hinder thee. Christ is now
present also, and saith, <'Take up thy bed;"
only be willing to rouse thyself, despair not.

St. Chrysostom

PRAYER 127

pRAY often, and you shall pray oftener.
• •••••

Order your private devotions so, that they
become not arguments and causes of tedious-
ness by their indiscreet length; but reduce your
words into a narrower compass, still keeping all
the matter, and what is cut off in the length of
your prayers, supply in the earnestness of your
spirit; for so nothing is lost, while the words
are changed into matter, and length of time into
fervency of devotion.

Jeremy Taylor

144 STRANGE GODS

T T is a sad Reflection, that many Men hardly have
^ any Religion at all ; and most Men have none
of their own : For that which is the Religion of
their Education, and not of their Judgement, is the
Religion of Another, and not Theirs.

No Religion is better than an Unnatural One. j

It were better to be of no Church, than to be
bitter for any.

William Penn

its misery. It hath some sense of that Power
from which it came, who providcth for it, who
is leading it sorae whither ; And it cannoi but
cry and complain to this Power, according to
what it feels and dcairea. The young Ravens
to it for food ) The whole creation groanech
and panteth to it, to he delivered from its bondage,
Man, as he hath a clearer light than these, so
he hath more clear addresses to it. . . .

By Prayer, I do not mean any bodily exercise
of the outward man ; but tlie going forth of the
Spirit of life towards the Fountain of Life, for

less and satisfaction : The natural tendency
of the poor, rent, derived spirit, towards the
" UQtain of spirits.

Isaac Penington

146 THINGS THAT

'T^O-MORROW or in twenty centuries
^ The sudden falling open of a lid

On some grey tomb beside the Pyramid
May bring the First Evangel to our eyes.
That day, who knows with what aghast surprise

Our priests shall touch the very deeds He did,

And learn the truth so many ages hid,
And find, perchance^ that Christ did never rise.
What then ? Shall all our faith be accounted vain ?

Nothing be left of all our nights of prayer ?

Nothing of all the scruples, all the tears

Of endless generations' endless years ?
Take heart ! Be sure the fruits of these remain.

Hark to the Inner Witness : Christ is there !

Madame James Darmesteter

CANNOT BE SHAKEN

r amd

eof n

(.■ than I

1 of being under tlie eye and guidance ol' a
Being who desires to train and educate me to be a
good man ; and yet I know lliat beyond the pale oi
the Bible's influence this conviction has rarely been
fully felt, and I well believe that without that influence
I abould not have had such a conviction. But now
that by the help of the Bible I have arrived at it,
I feel that no demolition of outward authority, even
if euch demolition were possible, could deprive me
of it. Indeed, that agreement between the Bible
and my spiritual organisation strengthens my faith
in the Divine origin of the Bible more than any
Other argument could.

148 AN ONWARD STEP

' I 'O me all things seem to witneas thiit a change
■*■ is at the doors, that Christendom ia even now
on the very eve of judgement, and yet that the break
up of the Church, like that of Israel of old, will
raise the world another step, and lead, not only to
the departure of the fleshly forms of Christ, but to
an outpouring of the Spirit, such as hitherto has not
been known, and to an attainment by the race of an
opening of Heaven aod the things of God, which
as yet has been the lot of very few. Christ d
be revealed. It will not he what so many are eX' J
pecting, the continuation of that which noi
but the bringing in, or rather bringing out, of tl
which still is hidden, whicli, while it will sureln
shakt all that can be shaken, will reveal also
thing which shall not be moved. But the iJioi^
that another and better dispensation will succeed tltt
present is as offensive to many in the Church a.
idea that the Gospel ehould succeed the law was to
God's ancient people Israel. Tiwse who counted
themselves the elect could not believe the passing
away of that which had stood so long, and been
confirmed by such divine sanctions. Yet man grew
out of the Jewish to the Christian stage. And now,
if I err not, by the Church's judgement, and through
a process very similar to that which happened to tl
Jew, man is not only to extend what he r
— much less to retrograde, as some believe,
Jewish ceremonies, — but rather to advance by tl
developement of the life within to something si
higher and broader and more spiritual.

Andrew Juksi i

IN DIVERS MANNERS 149

' I ^HUS you see, Academicus, that I am so far
'■' from being, as you said, in a Way by myself,
that I am with every man in every way, whose
heart stands right towards God.

William Law

I50 MANY PATHS, ONE WAY

T-JOW sweet and pleasant it is to the spiritual
*■■ "*• eye to see several forms of Christians in the
school of Christ, every one learning their own
lesson, performing their own peculiar service, and
knowing, owning, and loving one another in their
several places, and different performances to their
Master, to whom they are to give an account, and
not to quarrel with one another about their different
practices ! The true ground of unity is not that a
man walks and does just as I do, but that I feel the
same spirit and life in him.

The way is one, Christ the truth of God ; and
he that is in the faith, and in the obedience to the
Light which shines from His Spirit into the heart
of every believer, has a taste of the one heart, and
of the one way ; and knows that no variety of
practices, which is of God, can make a breach
of the true unity.

Isaac Penington

WISDOM 151

"^J EITHER despise, nor oppose, what thou dost
-^"^ not understand.

William Penn

152 THE AFFIRMATIVE MIND

npO the living and affirmative mind difficulties
''' and unintelligibilities are as dross, which
successively rises to the surface, and dims the
splendour of ascertained and perceived truth, but
which is cast away, time after time, until the
molten silver remains unsullied; but the negative
mind is lead, and, when all its formations of dross
are skimmed away, nothing remains.

Coventry Patmore

THE FIRE OF LOVE

I Altar must kindle' our
, no accept-
where there
where Devotion
correspond a

TrS a Coal from God's
■^ Fire : And without F
able Sacri&ce. . . .

Let ua chuse, therefore,
is the warmest Sense of Religion ;
exceeds Formality, and Practice r
with Profession ; and where there ia at least i
much Charity as Zeal ; For where this tSociety
ia to be found, there shall we find the Church of
God. . . .

The Humhle, Meek, Merciful, Just, Pious, and
Devout Soula, are everywhere of one Religion ; and
when Death has taken oiF the Mask, they will
know one another, tho' the divers l.iveries they
wear here makes them Strangers.

WiLUAM Penn

154 TRUTH MAKING FREE

"AS to what you may think of my beliefs I
•^^ have no fear ; they need not be discussed
and they cannot be attacked."

" But your church has its dogmas."

"There is not a dogma of my church that I
have ever thought of for a moment — or of any
other church."

" How can you remain in your church without
either believing or disbelieving its dogmas ? "

** My church is the altar of Christ and the
House of God," replied Gabriella simply. " And
so is any other church."

"And you believe in them all?^^ he asked in
wondering admiration.

" I believe in them all. "

James Lane Allen

OBJECTIONS

" T^rHAT you are now saying," I suggested,
VV ..s„n,3 to i^piy the exiBtence of Iwo
original and almoBl equal jiowerii. Ii sounds very
like Manichxism."

"So," returned he quietly, " I have been
sometimes told, but the daya for me are long
past (if indeed for mc they ever existed) when a
word or name could alarm me. I have learned to
hold with Newman, that one of the surest nurks of
a living faitii is its disregard of conaequencea, and
among all Butler's deep sayings, there are no words
which I endorse more fully thun those in which he
bids us know, that if a truth be once established
objccliont are nothing — the one being founded on
our knowledge, the other on our ignorance,"

Dora Greenwell

156 A REASONABLE FAITH

' I ^HIS is the way of Salvation — to look
•*' thoroughly into everything and see what
it really k, alike in matter and in cause ; with your
whole heart to do what is just and say what is true :
and one thing more, to find life's fruition in heap-
ing good on good so close that not a chink is left
between.

Marcus Aurelius Antoninus

THE SPIRIT OF TRUTH 157

"^J EITHER the commentator nor the student
'*"^ must forget that the materials of all religious
thought and feeling lie in our own consciousness
and moral reason, and that we are not warranted
in adopting any theory of religion until we have
succeeded in reconciling it with that light which
God has placed within us.

Thomas Erskine of Linlathen

1 58 PARADOX

"IlfTHEN the state which the theologians call
^^ " Perfection *' is attained, and life is from
good to truth instead of from truth to good, the
connection between truths ceases to be an intellectual
necessity. Not only the " earth," or mass of
related knowledge, but " the multitude of the isles
is thine." Every discerned good is assured truth
and safe land, whether its subaqueous connection
with the main continent is demonstrable or not.
" Love and do what you like." " Habitual grace "
knows how to suck the baits off the hooks of
the Devil, and can take up adders without being
bitten.

Coventry Patmore

HOLY CATHOLIC CHURCH 159

Xll^HEN the deepest foundationa of all the
' ^ religione of the world have been laid free
and restored, who knows but chat those very
fouadatioDs may eerre once more, lik« the cata-
combs, or like the crypta beneath our old cathedrals,
as a place of refuge for those who, to whatever
creed they belong, long for something better, purer,
older and truer than what they can find in the
statutable sacrihcea, services, and sermons of the
days in which their lot on earth has been cast ;
some who have learnt to put away childiah things,
call them genealogies, legends, miracles or oracles,
but who cannot part with the childlike feitli of
their heart.

Though leaving much behind of what is
worshipped or preached in Hindu temples, in
Buddhist viharas, in Mohammedan mosques, in
Jewish synagogues, and Christian churches, each
believer may bring down with him into that quiet
crypt what he values most — his own pearl of great

The Hindu his innate disbelief in this world, his
unhesitating belief in another world ;

The Buddhist his perception of an eternal law,
his submission to it, his gentleness, his pity ;

The Mohammedan, if nothing else, at least his
sobriety ;

The Jew his clinging, through good and evil
days, to the One God, who loveth righteousness
and whose name is " I Am " j

The Christian, that which is better than all, if

i6o HOLY CATHOLIC CHURCH

those who doubt it would only try it — our love of
Gody call Him what you like, the infinite, the
invisible, the immortal, the father, the hisfaest
Self, above all, and through all, and in sdl, —
manifested in our love of man, our love of the iivkig,
our love of the dead, our living and undying love.

That crypt, though as yet but small and dark, is
visited even now by those few who shun the noise
of many voices, the glare of many lights, the
conflict of many opinions. Who knows but that in
time it will grow wider and brighter, and that the
Crypt of the Past may become the Church of the
Future ?

Max MiJLLER

FORMS OF WORSHIP i6i

'T'HIS World h a Form ; our Bodiea are Forma ;
-'■ and no visible Acts of Devotion can be witii-
out Forms. But yet tlie less Form in religion the
better, since God is a Spirit : For the more mental
our Worship, the more adequate to the Nature of
God i the more silent the more suitable to the
Languiige of a Spirit.

William Penh

1 62 CHURCH-GOING

O E not discouraged, Academicus ; Take the
■^ following Advice, and then you may go to
Church without any Danger of a mere Lip-labour
or Hypocrisy, although there should be an Hymn,
or a Psalm, or a Prayer, whose Language is higher
than that of your own Heart, Do this : Go to
the Church, as the Publican went into the Temple ;
stand inwardly in the Spirit of your Mind, in that
Form which he outwardly expressed, when he cast
down his Eyes, smote upon his Breast, and could
only say, God be merciful to me a Sinner ! Stand
unchangeably (at least in your Desire) in this Form
and State of Heart : it will sanctify every Petition
that comes out of your Mouth ; and when anything
is read, or sung, or prayed, that is more exalted
and fervent than your Heart is, if you make this
an Occasion of a further sinking down in the Spirit
of the Publican, you will then be helped, and highly
blessed, by those Prayers and Praises which seem
only to fit and to belong to, a better heart than
yours.

William Law

CHURCH-GOING 163

IpHE firet feeling thiit we have on entering it
* church is one of peace and repose. The
world is in such a hurry, and is moving, as some
people teli us, so much faster than formerly, that
we seem to want a few minutes of rest, an occasional
breathing time before we go hence. We desire to
be with God as we believe that we shall Jiereafter
be with Him. Here, at any rate, the strife of
tongues is hushed, the strain of mind is taken off,
the cares of life are no longer immediately present
to us: "There is a great calm." Here we pause
for a moment in our journey that we may proceed
refreshed. Here we are raised iibove the mean
thoughts of mankind ; we hear the words of the
saints and prophets of old ; we live for a short
time in the nearer companionship of God and of
another world ; we pass in review the last day or
two, and ask ourselves whether we are doing enough
for others j we seek to realise tn our minds a higher
standard of duty and character. Here are revived
in us those aspirations after another and better state
of being, which in good men are always returning
and are never completely satisfied, but which, like
wings, bear us up on the sea of life, and prevent
our sinking into the routine of custom which pre-
vails around us. Here we resign ourselves to the
pure thought, to the pure will, to the pure mind,
which is the truer pajt of our own souls, and in
which and through which we see God.

Benjamin Jowett

164 SUBMISSION TO

COME alii'ink from [hose outward and »aar»
" mental acts, which our Lord uaea to reach th
carnal and defiled, with the honest but mistafci
notion that such forms are imworthy of the Lon
and a degradation to Him, if not also to thq
to whom He offers them. True souls yet err tl
Some things they think too low for Christ —
carnal for a spiritual Lord, and for disciples 1
are called by Him to be spiritual. So do e
some of Christ's truest discijiles stumble at
humiliation of the Eternal Word, when He j
conies in sacramental forma, which are perhaps t
greatest humiliation. But the Lord's grace ia t
turned aside by His servants' mistake. He 3
stoops to the rejected form, saying, " What I (
thou knowest not now, but thou sha!t know her
after." Let but Hia Spirit so fill us that
His works — for it is only like that understani
and then we too shall see how such stoopingB-
carn:d men are not carnal, but most godlike,
therefore moat spiritual.

Andrew JuKEg:

FORMS OF WORSHIP 165

npHE sense of duty, the love of tmth, the deeire
to do good to all men, are not inseparahly
coDDCCted with the habit of going to church. Yet
a man may also make a noble use of the oppor-
tunities of public worship. They may deepen his
nature and character ; they may atrengthen and
steady him. They may draw him towards others
and prevent his becoming isolated. They may
enable him to resist the temptations of evil, to get
rid of levity and egotism. They may leach him
to know himself, they may lead him to think
seriously of life ; they may enable him to preserve
consistency, when other men are going backwards
and forwards from one pole of religious belief to
another ; they are the natural balance of the amuse-
menlB and excitements of youth, when the pulse
beats quickly and the heart ia eager, and the sorrows
of fife have not yet been felt. There ia nothing
in this which ia necessarily formal or unreal or
constrained. He who does not under some hasty
misconception lay aside the habits of religion, as
many in the present day seem apt to do, will find
that they are in no way inconsistent with the love
of truth. And he wilt leara, afi years go on, that
truth does not consist in a series of abstract pro-
positions, or in systems of philosophy, or discoveries
about facts of science or history, but that of truth
too there is a higher and more living image in the
perfection of human nature, the likeness of God in
Chriat.

Bemjamin Jowett

1 66 THE WISE PATIENCE

T^HE man of perfect knowledge should not
^ unsettle the foolish whose knowledge is
imperfect.

, . Bhagavad Gita

FREEDOM FROM FORMS 167

/"'HRIST ia the Rest of the Gospel (as He
^-' IB also the Holy Land): believing is the
entering into this rest ; here is His Sabbath, and
the keeping of it. Keep ia the faith, the Gospel
Rest is kept. I do not make void the law by faith,
or through publishing the ministry of the Spirit, but
establish it in its ministratioD in the Spirit to the
disciples of Christ; who, keeping to the Spirit,
cannot trangress the righteousness of it, though
they may there learn not to esteem one day above
another but to esteem every day, no days having
ever had real holiness in them one above another ;
but only a figurative or representative, which the
substance Christ and His Gospel swallows up;
for as His day dawns, those things which were the
shadow of it fly away.

Isaac Pen in g ton

1 68 FREEDOM FROM FORMS

' I ^HE blindest faith may haply save ;
'^ The Lord accepts the things we have ;
And reverence, how80*er it strays,
May find at last the shining ways.

They needs must grope who cannot see.
The blade before the ear must be ;
As ye are feeling I have felt.
And where ye dwell I too have dwelt.

But now, beyond the things of sense.
Beyond occasions and events,
I know, through God's exceeding grace.
Release from form and time and place.

a . • « . • •

The outward symbols disappear
From him whose inward sight is clear ;
And small must be the choice of days
To him who fills them all with praise !

Keep while you need it, brothers mine,
With honest zeal your Christmas sign ;
But judge not him who every morn
Feels in his heart the Lord Christ bom.

From The Mystic's Christmas —
John Greenleaf Whittier

THE FREEDOM OF LOVE 169

qPHERE are four sorts of men who are con-
■*■ eerned with ordtT, laws and cuatoma. Some
keep thetn neither for God'a sake nor to serve
iheir own ends but from constraint. . . . The
second sort obey for the sak-e of reward : these are
men who know nothing beside, or better than laws
and precepts, and imagine that by keeping them
they may obtain the Kingdom of Heaven and
Eternal Life, and rot otherwise ; and him who
practiseth many ordinances they think to be holy,
and him who omitteth any tittle of them they think
to be lost. Such men are very much in earnest,
and give great diligence to the work, and yet they
find it a weariness. The third sort are wicked,
false-hearted men, who dream and declare that
they are perfect and need no ordinances, and make
a mock of them.

The fourth are those who are enlightened with
the True Light, who do not practise these things
for reward, for they neither look nor desire to get
anything thereby, but all that they do is from love
alone. And these are not so anxious and eager to
accomplish much and with all speed as the second
sort, but rather seek to do things in peace and good
leisure ; and if some not weighty matter be neglected,
they do not therefore think themselves lost, for
they know very well that order and fitness are
better than disorder, and therefore they choose to
walk orderly, yet know at the same time that their
salvation hangeth not thereon. Therefore ihey are
not in so great anxiety as the others.

Theolagia Germanica

170 THE FREEDOM OF LOVE

I IT seems to me that real liberty c.

I ^ God in al! thinga, and in foUowing the Ii|l3

r which points ouc our duty, and the grace whictu

guides us ; taking as our rule of life the intention
to please God in all things ; not only always to do
what is acceptable to Him, but if possible what is
mar' acceptable ; not trilling with petty distinctions
between sins great and small, imperfections and
faults, — for although it may be very true that there
are such distinctions, they should have no weight
with a soul which is determined to refuse nothing
it possesses to God. It is in this sense chat the
Apostle Bays, " The law is not made for a righteouB
man : " — a burdensome, hard, threatening law, one
might almost say a tyrannical, enslaving lawj but
there is a higher law which rises above all this,
and leads him into the true "liberty of sons," —
the law which makes him always strive to do
that which is most pleasing to his Heavenly .
Father, in the spirit of those beautiful words o'
St. Augustine : " Love and do what thou wilt."
F£keu>n ,

THE FREEDOM OF LOVE 171

AH! children, if man knew how so to tend
■^^ his vine, that God's sun might shine in on

and rtvify his aoul, what sweet, excellent, delicious
fruit would the etema! sun draw forth from him !
For the lovely sun shines with all its fulness into
him, and works within these precious clusters, and
makes them flourish in sweetness and beauty. . . .

Now after that the vine has been well pruned,
and its stem cleared of all weeds, the glorious
sun shineth yet more brightly, and casteth his heat
on the precious clusters, and these grow more and
more transparent, and the sweetness begins to dis-
close itself more and more. And to such a man
as we have described, all means of communication
between God and his soul begin after a time to
grow so transparent that the rays and glances of the
divine sun reach him without ceasing, that is, as
often and as soon as he turns himself towards them
in feeling and thought. This divine sun shines
much more brightly than all the suns in the firma-
ment ever shone ; and in its light all the man's
ways, and works and doings are so changed into
its image, that lie feels nothing to be so true as
God, with a certainty that is rooted io the very
midst of his being, yet it is far above the sphere
of his reason, and which he can never fully express,
for it is too deep and loo high above ail human
reason to be explored and understood.

After this the vinedresser loves to strip off the
leaves, that thus the sun may have nothing to
hinder its rays from pouring on the grapes. In like

172 THE FREEDOM OF LOVE

manner do all means of grace fall away from this
man, such as images of the saints, teachings, holy
exercises, set prayers, and the like. Yet let none
cast these things aside before they fall away of
themselves through divine grace.

John Tauler

THE SOUL'S SECRET 173

'npHERE is a secret place of rest
^ God's saints alone may know ;
Thou shalt not find it east nor west,

Though seeking to and fro.
A cell where Jesus is the door,

His love the only key :
Who enter will go out no more,
But there with Jesus be.

From The Inner Life

174 PREPARATION

tl AST thou a cunning instrument of play,

'-^ 'Tis well ; but see thou keep it bright,

And tuned to primal chords, so that it may

Be ready day and night.

For when He comes thou know'st not, who shall

say : —
"These Virginals are apt" ; and try a note,
And sit, and make sweet solace of delight.
That men shall stand to. listen on the way.
And all the room with heavenly music float.

T. E. Brown

THE SOUL'S SECRET 175

^fXTE must use special caution in speaking to
^^ others of those hidden consolations with
which Almighty God hath been pleased to refresh
our souls. Even as that mellifluous Doctor — St.
Bernard— was wont to advise every one to have
these words in large letters written in his room,
"My Secret to Myself."

San Pedro de Alcantara

176 THE SOUL'S SECRET

TF this world's friends might see but once
^ What some poor man may often feel,
Glory and gold and crowns and thrones,
They soon would quit, and learn to kneel.

• • • • • •
Dear, secret Greenness ! nurst below

Tempests and winds and winter nights,
Vex not, that but One sees thee grow :
That One made all these lesser lights.

• • • , • • •
Then bless thy secret growth, nor catch

At noise, but thrive unseen and dumb :
Keep clean, bear fruit, earn life, and watch,
Till the white-winged Reapers come.

Henry Vaughan

THE SOUL'S SECRET

" DEHOLD now how much He loved thee."
■'^ Come hither and gaze into the heart of
thy Lord. If thou hadet the eyes of an eagle,
here is whereon to gaze ; nay, even these could
not enable thee to see in its iotenaity the burning
flame of love which dwelt in His moat holy aoul.
They bound His hands with ropes, but understand
thou that it was •wllbia that He was bound — bound by
the meshea of mighty love, as immeasurably stronger
than those ro[)es as chains of iron are beyond threads
of flax. . . .

If with quiet thinking of these things the Lord
do give thee tears and compassion and other devout
affections of mind, thou art to accept them umler
this coniTition . . . that no exterior signs, no out-
ward show, is made of what thou hast felt within.
Juan de Avila

178 THE REVELATION

A N idle poet, here and there,
-^^ Looks round him, but, for all the rest,
The world, unfathomably fairi
Is duller than a witling's jest.

Love wakes men, once a life-time each
They lift their heavy heads and look j

And) lo, what one sweet page can teach
They read with joy, then shut the book*

• . . •

And some give thanks, and some blasphemy.
And most forget : but, either way.

That, and the Child's unheeded dream,
Is all the light of all their day*

Coventry Patmore

THE MOMENT SOUGHT

TO FANCY .

T AM here for thee.

Art thou there for me ?
Or, iraitresa to my watchful heart,
DoBt thou from rock and wave depart,
And from the desolate aeaJ

1 am here for thee,

Aft thou there for me !
Or, Fancy, with thy wondrous smile
Wilt thou no more my eyes beguile

Betwixt the clouds and sea ?

I am here for thee,

Art thou there for me ?
Spirit of brightness, shy and ^weet !
My eyes thy glimmering robe would meet

Above the glimmering sea.

MylitUeskiU,

My passionate will.
Are here; where art thffu? Spirit, bow
From darkening cloud thy heavenly brow,

Ere sinks the ebbing sea.

RiCH&U) Watson Dixon

i8o A MOMENT OF VISION

rf^NLY — but this ie' rare—

a beloved han
When, jaded with rush and glare
Of the iQterminable houra.
Our eyes can in another's eyes read clear.
When our world-deafened ear
Is by the tones of a loved voice caressed —
A bolt is shot back somewhere in our breast,
And a lost pulse of feeling stire again.
The eye sinks inward, and the heart lies plain
And what we mean, we say, and what we w

A man becomes aware of his life's flow.

And hears its winding murmur, and he sees

The meadows where it glides, the sun, the breeze

And there arrives a liill in the hot race
Wherein he doth for ever chase
That flying and elusive shadow, rest.
An air of coolness plays upon his face,
And an unwonted calm pervades his breast.
And then he thinks he knows
The hills where his life rose.
And the sea where it goes.

Matthew Arnolu I

THE MYSTIC MOMENT i8i

npHEN comes the happy n
* In any tree, no portent in the sky :
The morn doth neither hasten nor defer,
The morrow hath no name to call it by.
But life and joy are one, — we know not why, —
Aa though our very Wood long breathless lain
Had tasted of the breath of God again.

And having tasted it I apeak of it,
And praise him thinking how I trembled then
When hia touch strengthened me, aa now I sit
In wonder, reaching out beyond my ken.
Reaching to turn the day back, and my pen
Urging to tell a tale which told would seem
The witless phantasy of them that dream.

But O most blessM truth, for truth thou art.

Abide thou with me till my life shall end.

Divinity hath surely touched my heart ;

I have possessed more joy than earth can lend :

I may attain what time shall never spend.

Only let not my duller days destroy

The memory of thy witness and my joy.

Robert Bridges

1 82 THE SOUL'S GUEST

'ipOO' eager I must not be to .uQcler^tand. ..
^ How should the work the Master goes about
Fit the vague sketch my compasses have planned ?
I am His house — for Him to go in and out.
He builds me now— and if I cani^ot see
At any time what He is doing with me,
'Tis He that makes the house for me too grand.

The house is not for me, it is fpr Him ;
His royal thoughts require many a stair.
Many a tower, mapy an outlook fair,
Of which I have no thought and need no care.
Where I am most perplexed, it naay be there
Thou mak'st a secret chamber, holy-dim.
Where Thou wilt come to hplp my deepest prayer.

George MacDonald

THE SOUL'S GUEST 183

QH!

! Sir, would you know the Blessing of all
__ , it is this God of Love dwelling
in your Soul, and killing e^ery Root of Bitterness,
which is the Pain and. Torment of every earthly
selfiflh Love. For all Wants are satisfied, all
Disorders of Nature are removed, no Life is any
longer a Burden, every Day is a day of Peace,
everything you meet becomes a Help to you,
because everything you see or do is all done in the
sweet gentle Element of Love. For as Love has
no By-Ends, wills nothing but its own Increase,
so everything is as Oil to its Fkme ; it must have
lh»t which it wills, and cannot be disappointed,
because everything naturally helps it to live in its
own Way, and to bring forth its own Work. For
the Wrath of an Enemy, the Treachery of a
Friend, and every other Eifil, only helps the Spirit
of Love to be more triumphant, to live its own
Life and llnd all its own Blessings in a higher
degree.

William Law

i84 FOUND OF GOD

T SAID «I will find God," and forth I went

A To seek Him in the clearness of the sky,

But over tae stood unendurably

Only a pitiless, sapphire firmament

Ringing the world, blank splendour ; yet intent

Still to find God, ** I will go seek^" said I,

**Hi8 way upon the waters," and drew nigh

An ocean marge weed-strewn and foam-besprent ;

And the waves dashed on idle sand and stone.

And very vacant was the long, blue sea ;

But in the evening as I sat alone,

My window open to the vanishing day,

Dear God ! I could not choose but kneel and pray.

And it sufficed that I was found of Thee.

Edward Dowdbn

FOUND OF GOD

THE VOICE OP THE DIVINE
PURSUER

"ALL which I took from thee I did but take,

** Not for thy harms,
But just that thou mights^ seek it in My arms.

All which thy child's mistake
Fancies as lostj I have stored for thee at homE.
Rise, cluap My hand aad come."

Halts by me that footfall :

Is my gloom, after all,
Sliade of His hand outstretched caressingly ?

" All, fondest, blindest, weakest,

I um He Whom thou eeckeal !
Thou dravest love from thee, who draveat Me."
Francis Thompson

i86 MYSTIC UNION

TTITHEN a man hath tasted that which is perfect
^^ as far as is possible in this present time,
all created things ' ^d ^yen . jiimself become as
nought to him. . . • And then ttiere beginneth in
him a true inward life, wherein from henceforward,
God Himself dwelleth in. the man, so that nothing
is left in him but what is God's or of God, and
nothing is left which taketh anything unto itself.
And thus God Himself, that is tfee One Eternal
Perfectness, alone is, liveth, knoWeth, worketh,
loveth, willeth, doeth and refraineth in the man.
And thus, of a truth, it should be,' arid where it is
not so, the man hath yet far to travel, and things
are not altogether right with him, . .. ,

Now on this wise we should attain unto a true
inward life. And what then further would
happen to the soul, or would be revealed unto her,
and. what her life would be henceforward, none
can declare or guess. For it is that which hath
never been uttered by man's lips, nor hath it
entered into the heart of man to conceive,

Theologia Germantca

MYSTIC UNION lij

TF length of Days be thy Portion, make it not
■*■ thy ExpectatioD. Reckon not upon long Life :
think every day the last, and live always beyond
thy account. He that ao often surviveth his
Expectation lives maoy Lives, and will scarce
complain of the BhorCnesB of his days. Time past
is gone like a Shadow ; make time to come present.
Approximate thy latter times by present appre-
hensions of them ; be like a neighbour unto the
Grave, and think there is but little to come. And
since there lu something of us that will still live on,
join both lives together, and live in one but for
the other. He who thus ordereth the purposes of
this Life will never be far from the next, and is
in some manner already in it, by a happy conformity,
and close apprehension of it. And if any have
been so happy as personally to understand Christian
Annihilation, Extasy, Exolution, Tranaformaiion,
the Kiss of the Spouse, and Ingreasion into the
Divine Shadow, according to Mystical Theology,
they have already had an Handsome Anticipation
of Heaven j the World is in a manner over, and
the Earth in ashes unto them.

SiR Thomas Drowne

i88 MYSTIC UNION

THE ODOUR

OOW sweedy doth My Master sound! My
^^ Master!

As Amber-greese leaves a rich scent

Unto the taster :

So do these words a sweet content,
An orientall fragrancie, My Master,
• • • • • •

My Master^ shall I speak ? O that to thee

My servant were a little so !

George Herbert

It is said of George Herbert that << he used in his
ordinarie speech, when he made mention of the blessed
name of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, to adde, My
Master'^

MYSTIC UNION

TX/^HAT can there be ao close as matir^ a
*" madei

Nought twinned can be bo near ( Thou art mort
nigh

To me, my God, than is this thinking /

To that I mean when / by me is said ;

Thou art more near me, than is my ready will [ 7

Near to my love, though both one place do fill f-^

Yet, till we are one, — Ab me ! the long uaii!/

Then shall my heart behold Thee everywhere.
The vision rises of a speechless thing,
A perfectness of bliss beyond comjare !
A time when I nor breathe nor think nor move.
But I do breathe and think and feel Thy love,
Tbe soul of all the songs the saints do sing ! —
And life dies out in bliss, to come again in prayer.
Geokge MacDonald

190 MYSTIC UNION

LJE who is in the Fire, and He who is in the
-*• •*• Heart, and He who is in the Sun, are all
One and the Same, and he who knows this
becomes one with the One.

From the Mditrdyana Upamshdd

From The VeJanta Philosophy — Max Muller

MYSTIC HARMONY igi

T^HEN witliin my soul

*■ Awoke 3. harmony that blent the whole
Of life — can death do more, shall death do leu :
O Boul of my past life ! the bitierneaa
Of thy past pain hurts not the thing I am
In this deep hour ; the BcnGca cannot crai
The spirit with fresh food for memories ;
No object now to eye or ear can riet,
And so the spirit settles into peace
Self-drawn, or drawn from Him who makes t

All trouble, and the inmost spirit bids
ConaiBt in peace i who nightly seals our lids
For this, and gives us timely hours like those,
When even the heart the spirit's calm o'er flows.
With whitest rtdies, whenever death shall c
Shall both his hands be filled. We travel home.
Richard Watson Dixon

192 MYSTIC HARMONY

T^UNE me, O Lord, into one harmony
-*- With Thee, one full responsive vibrant
chord;
Unto Thy praise all love and melody
Tune me, O Lord.

Thus need I flee nor death, nor fire nor sword :

A little while these be, then cease to be.
And sent by Thee not these should be abhorred.

Devil and world, gird me with strength to flee,
To flee the flesh, and arm mie with Thy word :

As Thy Heart is to my heart, unto Thee
Tune me, O Lord.

Christina Rossetti

SICKNESS 193

r\ FATHER, Thou art my eternity.
^^ Not on the clasp of consciousness — on Thee
My life depends ; and I can well afford
All to forget, so Thou remember. Lord.
In Thee I rest ; in sleep Thou dost me fold ;
In Thee I labour ; still in Thee, grow old ;
And dying, shall I not in Thee, my Life, be bold ?

George MacDonald

194 SICKNESS

T N sickness, when we are hanging between life and
* death, and physicians are watching over us and
noting the symptoms hour by hour, we can do
nothing better than lie still and see the salvation of
the Lord. Whether our prayer is " O spare me
that I may recover strength," or " Into Thy hands
I commend my spirit," we are ready to leave the
event with God. It is our duty, if we can, to
recover ; and it is our best hope of recovery to be
patient and to cast our burden upon the Lordl We
must keep the mind above the body ; and if during
weary days and nights the very distractions of mind
and body seem to be lost in a dull sense of pain and
misery, still, beyond and above that, there may be
some light shining upon us, some voice speaking to
us from afar, some inward peace that cannot be
shaken. . . .

The time of illness may be the time in which we
are apparently the most useless, and yet may be a
time in which our own character undergoes the
greatest change. And the memory of some illnesses
has been, not only in the mind of the sufferer but
of others who have been the witnesses of them, the
best recollection of their lives, the image of Christ
crucified brought home to them in the face of a
child or of a parent, to which they have turned
again and again in times of sorrow and temptation.

Benjamin Jowett

'X'HERE is threefold oneness with the One;
*■ And he ia one, who kteps
The homely laws of life ; who, if he slee[ia.
Or wakes, in his true flesh God's will is done.

And he is one, who takes the deathless forms.

Who schools himself to think

With the All-thinking, holding fast the link,
God-riveted, that bridges casual storms.

But tenfold one is he, who feela all pains

Not partial, knowing ihera

As ripples parted from the gold-beaked stem.
Wherewith God's galley ever onward strains.

To him the sorrows are the tension -thrills

Of that serene endeavour.

Which yields to God for ever and for ever
The joy that is more ancient than the hills.

196 PAIN

/^ PAIN, Love's mystery,

^^ Close next of kin

To joy and heart's delight,

Low Pleasure's opposite.

Choice food of sanctity

And medicine of sin,

Angel, whom even they that will pursue

Pleasure with hell's whole gust

Find that they must

Perversely woo,

My lips, thy live coal touching, speak thee true.

Thou sear'st my flesh, O Pain,

But brand'st for arduous peace my languid brain,

And bright' nest my dull view.

Till I, for blessing, blessing give again,

And my roused spirit is

Another fire of bliss.

Wherein I learn

Feelingly how the pangful purging fire

Shall furiously burn

With joy, not only of assured desire,

But also present joy

Of seeing life's corruption, stain by stain,

Vanish in the clear heat of Love irate.

And, fume by fume, the sick alloy

Of luxury, sloth, and hate

Evaporate ;

Leaving the man, so dark erewhile.

The mirror of God's smile.

Coventry Patmore

THE MEANING OF PAIN 197

npHE mystery of

sufFeriog — of the
—must indeed always
be hidden from our eyes, but for ouroelvea cannot we
believe that each hour of the body's pain or the
hean's desolation is 3 pag« in the lesson-book
which the dear Master places in His children's
hands, and that we shall find this lesson even here
to have been just what we needed for the comfort-
ing of others i And if so, may we not also believe
that when we are "about our Father's business " in
His House, sent forth to lay healing hands on the
wound of the world, we shall be the better equipped
for this holy service by every pain of the body we
have laid aside, every mood of heart-break or
despondency passed through in our mortal day .'
Thoiighti of a Tertiary

198 SICKNESS

'j^l'OT yet, my soul, these friendly fields desert,
-^^ Where thou with grass, and rivers and the

breeze,
And the bright face of day, thy dalliance hadst ;
Where to thine ear first sang the enraptured birds ;
Where love and thou that lasting bargain made.
The ship rides trimmed, and from the eternal shore
Thou hearest airy voices ; but not yet
Depart, my soul, not yet awhile depart.
Freedom is far, rest far. Thou art with life.
Too closely woven, nerve with nerve entwined ;
Service still craving service, love for love.
Love for dear love, still suppliant with tears.
Alas, not yet thy human task is done !
A bond at birth is forged ; a debt doth lie
Immortal on mortality it grows —
By vast rebound it grows, unceasing growth :
Gift upon gift, alms upon alms, upreared,
From man, from God, from nature, till the soul
At that so huge indulgence stands amazed.
Leave not, my soul, the unfoughten field, nor leave
Thy debts dishonoured, nor thy place desert
Without due service rendered. For thy life.
Up, spirit, and defend that fort of clay,
Thy body, now beleaguered : whether soon
Or late she fall ; whether to-day thy friends
Bewail thee dead, or, after years, a man
Grown old in order and the friend of peace.
Contend, my soul, for moments and for hours :
Each is with service pregnant ; each reclaimed
Is as a kingdom conquered, where to reign.

Robert Louis Stevenson

SICKNESS 199

T CANNPT tell why this day I am ill :

-^ But I am well because it is Thy will —

Which is to make me pure and right like Thee.

Not yet I need escape — 'tis bearable

Because Thou knowest. And when harder things

Shall rise and gather, and overshadow me,

I shall have comfort in Thy strengthenings.

George MacDonald

20O THE PHYSICIAN

LJ[ONOUR a physician with the honour due unto
'*' '*• him ... for the Lord hath created him.

Ecclesiosticus

THE PHYSICIAN 201

' TO A GREAT AND GOOD
PHYSICIAN

npHE grace of God upon thee, may'st thou feel
*■ The shorteced slumber and the hasty meal
Refresh thee as a Sacrament ; — thy aeose
Be quickened into rapture more intenae
Because thy joys are fewer ; — and the green
Valleys be fairer because far hetween ;
The first white flashing of a swallow's wing,
Glimpaea of pear-trees between walls in spring,
The morning air from new-mown fields in June,
The water-llliea on a Sabbath noon,
The solemn river-sunsets through tlie smoke.
The first reviving smile from eyes awoke
Out of Death's shadow unto life again, —
Be sweeter unto thee than other men.

And because mortal sorrow needs must fall
On all men, and the highest most of all,
And some sharp struggle crowns each ])erfecting.
And that our lower love no shield can bring
Between thee and the higher Love to stand,
That strikes for Love's own sake unfaltering,^
Therefore when thou too stretchcst out thy hand
For help, when thy need cometh, doubt or pain,
Or loss, or other anguish of this earth.
And though we died for thee our death were vain,
And though we gave all it were nothing worth.
And of the many thousands whom thy face
Hath comforted, can none return the grace.

202 THE PHYSICIAN

Being less than thee, — may the one Higher One

Do to thee even as thou to us hast done,

O Soother of our sorrows ! May'st thou see,

Steadfastly gazing towards Eternity,

The heavens opened, and at God's right hand.

With the same smile as once, thy Master stand ; —

Nor only so, but come down from His place.

And stand beside thee, and His arms embrace.

Nor ever let thy hand go, holding fast.

Till all the tyranny be overpast.

H. E. Hamilton King

VESPERS

^^^^HTHEN I have said my quiet GRy,
^^^^^ When I have sung my little song-

How sweetly, sweetly dies the day
The valley and the hill along ;
How sweet the summons, "Come away,"
That calls me from the busy throng I

I thought beaide the water's flow
Awhile to lie beneath the leaves,
I thought in Autumn's harvest glow
To rest my head upon the sheaves ;
But, lo ! methinks the day was brief
And cloudy ; flower, nor fruit, nor leaf
I bring, and yet accepted, free,
And blest, my Lord, I come to Thee.

What matter now for promise lost,
Through blast of Spring or Summer rains !
What matter now for purpose crost.
For broken hopes and wasted pains ;
What if the olive little yields.
What if the grape be blighted I Thine
The com upon a thousand fields,
Upon a thousand hills the vine.

Thou Invest still the poor ; Oh blest
In poverty beloved to be !
Less lowly is my choice confess'd,
1 love Che rich in loving Thee !

204 VESPERS

My spirit bare before Thee standsy
I bring no gift, I ask no sign ;
I come to Thee with empty hands.
The surer to be filled from Thine.

Dora Greenwell

GROWING OLD

MY BIRTHDAY

DKNEATH ihe moonlight and the snow
^ Lifs dead my latest year ;
The winter winds are Wfliling low
Its dirget ia ray ear.

I grieve not with the moaning wind,

As if a loss befell ;
Before rae, even as behind,

God is, and all ia well !

Love watches o'er my quiet days,

Kind voices speak my name,
And Hps that find it hard to praise

Are slow, at least, to blame.

Mcihioks the spirit's temper grows

Too soft in this still air;
Somewhat the restful heart foregoes

Of needed watch and prayer :

The bark by tempest vainly tossed

May founder in the calm.
And he who braved the polar frost

Faint by the isles of balm.

Than
^^T-h

Better than self-indulgent years
The outflung heart of youth,

Than pleasant songs in idle years
The tumult of the truth.

2o6 GROWING OLD

Rest for the weary hands is good.
And love for hearts that pine,

But let the manly habitude
Of upright souls be mine.

Let winds that blow from heaven refresh,

Dear Loid, the languid air ;
And let the weakness of the flesh

Thy strength of spirit share.

And if the eye must fail of light.

The ear forget to hear.
Make clearer still the spirit's sight.

More fine the inward ear !

Be near me in mine hours of need.
To soothe, or cheer, or warn.

And down these slopes of sunset lead
As up the hills of mom !

John Greenleaf Whittier

CO, at the last sliiill come old age,

"^ Decrepit aa befits that stage ;

How else wouldst thou retire apart

With the hoarded memories of thy heart.

And gather all to the very least

Of the fragments of life's earlier feast,

Let fall through eagerness to find

The crowning dainties yet behind !

Ponder on the entire past '

Laid together thus at last,

When the twilight helps to fuse

The first fresh with the faded hues,

And the outline of the whole.

At round eve'a shades their frame-work rol

Gladly fronts for once thy soul.

And then as, 'mid the dark a gleam

Of yet another morning breaks,

And like the hand which ends a dream,

Death, with the might of his sunbeam,

Touches the llesh and the aoul awakes,

Then

Rot

: Droi

2o8 OLD AGE

TN this age the noble Soul renders itself unto I
'' God, and awaits the end of this life with
much desire ; and to itself it seems that it goes
out from the Inn to return home to the Father's
mansion ; to itself it seems to have come to the
end of a long journey and to have reached the
City ; to itself it seems to have crossed the wide
sea and to have returned into the port.

Dante

r\0 not think

^-^ That good and wist will ever be allowed,

Though strength decay, to breathe in such estate

As shall divide them wholly from the stir

Ot" hopeful nature. Rightly it is said

That man descends into the vale of years i

Yei have I thuughc that we might aleo speak,

And not presumptuously, I trust, of Age,

As of a final eminence; . . .

A throne, that may be likened unto his,

Who, in some placid day of summer, looks

Down from a mountain- top, — say one of those

High peaks, that bound the vale where now we are.

Faint, and diminished to the gazing eye,

Forest and field, and hill and dale appear,

With all the shapes over their surface spread ;

But, while the gross and visible frame of things

Relinquishes its hold upon the sense.

Yea, aJmoBt on the Mind herself, and seems

All unsubstantialized, — how loud the voice

Of waters, with invigorated peal

From the foil river in the vale below,

Ascending 1

And may it not be hoped, that, placed by age
In like removal, tranquil though severe.
We are not so removed for utter loss ;
But for some favour, suited to our need ?
What more than that the severing should confer
Fresh power to commune with the invisible world.

2IO OLD AGE

And hear the mighty stream of tendency
Uttering, for elevation of our thought,
A clear sonorous voice, inaudible
To the vast multitude ; whose doom it is
To run the giddy round of vain delight.
Or fret and labour on the Plain below.

William Wordsworth

17AR off, ;ind faint as echoes of a dic^tni,
^ The songs of boyhood seem,
Yet 00 our Autumn boughs, unllown with Sjii'ing,
The evening thrushes sing. i

The hour driwa near, howe'ei' delayed and btc,

When at the Eternal Gate
We leave the words and works we call our own,

And lift void hands alone

For love to fill. Our nakedness of bouI

Brings to chat Cate no toll ;
Giftlesi we come to Him, who all things gives,

And live because He live-a.

John Greeni.eak Whittier

212 OLD AGE

' I ^HE seas are quiet when the winds give o'er ;
'■' So calm are we when passions are no more.
For then we know how vain it was to boast
Of fleeting things, so certain to be lost.
Clouds of affection from our younger eyes
Conceal that emptiness which age descries.

The soul's dark cottage, battered and decayed,
Lets in new light through chinks that Time hath

made:
Stronger by weakness, wiser men become
As they draw near to their eternal home.
Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view
That stand upon the threshold of the new.

Edmund Waller

T> Y this the text intends to show what the Noble
'^ Soul does in the last age, that is, in Extreme
Old Agp, that it returns to God as to that port
or haven whence it departed when it issued forth
to enter into the sea of this life, and that it blesses
the voyage which it has made, because it has been
upright, straight and good, and without the bitter-
ness of storm and tempest.

And here it is to be known that, even as Tu!ly
says in thiit book On Old Age, the natural death
is, as it were, a port or haven to us after our
long voyage and a place of rest. And the
Virtuous Man who dies thus is like the good
mariner ; for, as he approaches the port or haveu,
he strikes his sails, and gently, with feeble steering,
enters port. Fveo thus wc ought to strike the
sails of our worldly atTuirs, and turn to God with
all our heart and mind, so that one may come into
that haven with all sweetness and peace.

And in this we have from our own proper
nature a great and gentle lesson, for in such a
death as this there is no pain nor bitterness, but
even as a ripe apple breaks easily and without
violence from its branch, so our Soul separates
itself without sorrow from the body wherein it
has dwelt.

Dante

" -

214 OLD AGE

CO, Age thou dealest us

^ To the elements : but no ! Resume thy pride,

O man, that musest thus.

Be to the end what thou hast been before :

The ancient joy shall wrap thee still — the tide

Return upon the shore.

Richard Watson Dixon

f\ BLEST seclusion ! when the mind admits

^^ The law of duty ; and can therefore move

Through each viciaaitude of loss and gaio,

Linked in entire complacence with her choice ;

When youth's presumptuouaness is mellowed down,

And manhood's vain anxiety dismissed ;

When wisdom shows her seasonable fruit,

Upon the boughs of ahelteriog leisure hung

In sober plenty ; when the spirit stoops

To drink with gratitude the crystal stream

Of unreproved enjoyment ; and is pleased

To muse, and be saluted by the air

Of meek repentance, wafting wall-flow'r scents

From out the crumbling ruins of fallen pride

And chambers of transgression now forlorn.

William Wordsworth

2i6 OLD AGE

THE PROSPECT OF DEATH IN

OLD AGE

T FULLY understand that age and infirmity
^ make you look at death from a much more
serious point of view than when you only con-
templated it as an afar-ofF thing. The vague,
distant prospect which comes from time to time
during a busy life, amid many distractions, is but
as a dream ; but death becomes a very different
and far more real matter when you contemplate
it in solitude and in old age. It costs one little
to accept it from afar and generally, but to give
one's self up deliberately, with a calm gaze on
approaching death, is a much greater struggle.
Nature must shrink from the bitter cup, but let
the inner being say with our Dear Lord : ** Never-
theless not what I will, but what Thou wilt."

F^NELON

An April rain of smiles and tears,
My heart is young again.

The west-winds blow, and, flinging low,
I hear the glad Btreama run ;

The windows of my soul I throw
Wide open to the aun.

No longer forward nor behind

I look in hope or fear j
But, grateful, lake the good I find,

The beat of now and here

All as God wills, who wisely heeds

To give or to withhold,
And knoweth more of all my needs

Than all my prayers have told !

Enough that blessings undeserved
Have marked rny erring track i —

That wheresoe'er my feet have swerved.
His chastening turned me back ; —

That more and more a Providence

Of love is understood.
Making the springs of time and sense

Sweet with eternal goad; —

2i8 OLD AGE

That death seems but a covered way

Which opens into light.
Wherein no blinded child can stray

Beyond the Father's sight ; —

That care and trial seem at last,
Through Memory's sunset air,

Like mountain-ranges overpast,
In purple distance fair ; —

That all the jarring notes of life

Seem blending in a psalm.
And all the angles of its strife

Slow rounding into calm.

And so the shadows fall apart.

And so the west-winds play.
And all the windows of my heart

I open to the day.

John Greenleaf Whittier

RELIGION OF OLD AGE 219

"XXTHO, if he is honest towards himself, could
^ ^ say that the religion of his manhood was
the same as that of his childhood, or the religion of
his old age the same as the religion of his man-
hood ? It is easy to deceive ourselves and to say
that the most perfect faith is a childlike faith. But
before we can learn that, we have first to learn
another lesson, namely, to put away childish things.
There is the same glow about the setting sun as
there is about the rising sun ; but there lies between
the two a whole world, a journey through the whole
sky, and over the whole earth.

Max Muller

220 THE GOAL IN SIGHT

npHE Goal in sight ! Look up and sing,
'*' Set faces ftill against the light,
Welcome with rapturous welcoming
The Goal in sight.

Let be the left, let be the right :

Straight forward make your footsteps ring
A loud alarum thro' the night.

Death hunts you, yea, but reft of sting ;

Your bed is green, your shroud is white :
Hail ! Life and Death and all that bring

The Goal in sight.

Christina Rossetti

DARDON, Lord, the lips that dare
Shape ID words a mortal's prayer I
Prayer, that, when my day is done.
And 1 see its setting sun,
Shora and beamlees, cold and dim,
Sink beneath the horizon's rim, —
When this hall of rock and clay
Crumbiea from my feet away.
And the solid shores of sense
. Melt into the vague immense,
Father ! I may corae to Thee
Even with the beggar's plea.
As the poorest of 'i'hy poor.
With my needs, and nothing raore.

Not as one who seeks his home
With a step assured I come,
Still behind the tread I hear
Of my life- companion. Fear ;
Still a shadow deep and vast
From my westering feet Is cast,
Wavering, doubtfiJ, undefined,
Nerver shapen or oudined ;
From myself the fear has grown,
And the shadow is my own.
Yet, O Lord, through all a sense
Of Thy tendLT providence
Slays my failing heart on Thee,
And confirms the feeble knee ;
And, at times, my worn feet press
Spaces of cool quietness.

222 A PRAYER

Lilied whiteness shone upon
Not by light of moon or sun.
• • • •

Haply, thus by Thee renewed.
In Thy borrowed goodness good.
Some sweet morning yet in God's
Dim, seonian periods.
Joyful I shall wake to see
Those I love who rest in Thee,
And to them in Thee allied
Shall my soul be satisfied.

John Greenleaf Whittier

THE GREAT ORDER 223

"P\EPART (saith Nature) out of this world, even
•*^ as you came into it. The same way you
came from death to life, return without passion or
amazement, from life to death : your death is but a
piece of the world's order, and but a parcel of the
world's life.

Michel, Sieur de Montaigne

224 THE GREAT ORDER

rjOW then stands the case ? Thou hast taken
-*• '*• ship, thou hast sailed, thou art come to land,
go out, if to another life, there also shalt thou find
gods, who are everywhere. If all life and sense
shall cease, then shalt thou cease also to be subject
to either pains, or pleasures ; and to serve and tend
this vile Cottage ; so much the viler by how much
that which ministers unto it doth excel ; the one
being a rational substance and a spirit, the other
nothing but earth and corruption.

Marcus Aurelius Antoninus

THE GREAT ORDER 225

TTTTE persist in walking by sight and esteeming
^ ^ this existence Life, and the end of this
existence Death ; whereas, rightly viewed, this
existence is but a stage in mortality, and so-called
Death a step onwards to the fblness of immortality.
Each one of us is, as it were, a limb of God, with
the potentiality of perfection, and gradually, through
the experience of multiform error, to be developed
into the full exercise of spontaneous and joyous
activity.

R. W. Corbet

226 THE GREAT ORDER

CPEND your brief moment according to nature's
law, and serenely greet the journey's end, as an
olive falls when it is ripe, blessing the branch that
bare it, and giving thanks to the tree that gave it
life.

Marcus Aurelius Antoninus

THE GATE OF LIFE 227

^VT OT only the change which we call death, but
-^^ probably the whole of this our mortal life, is
only a slow and difficult and painful birth into a
higher existence ; the very breath we draw is part of
the travail of creation towards a yet but partially
fulfilled aim.

Dora Greenwell

228 THE GATE OF LIFE

T^EATH is no less essential to us than to live,
^^ or to be born. In flying death, thou flic«t
thyself; thy essence is equally parted into these
two, life and death. It is no small reproach to a
Christian, whose faith is in immortality, and the
blessedness of another life, to fear death much,
which is the necessary passage thereunto.

Sir Henry Vane
(quoted in Penn's No Cross No Cro*wn)

THE GATE OF LIFE 229

npHE soul of a philosopher will consider that it
is the office of philosophy to set her free.
She will know that she must not give herself up
once raore to the bondage of pleasure and pain,
from which philosophy is releasing her, and, like
Penelope, do a work, only to undo it continually,
weaving instead of unweaving her web.

She gains for herself peace from these things,
and follows reason and ever abides in it, contemplat-
ing what is true and divine and real, and fostered
by them. So ahe thinks that she should live in this
life, and when she dies she believes that she will go
to what is akin to and like herself, and be released
from human ills. A sou!, Simraias and Cebes,
that has been so nurtured, and so trained, will never
fear lest ehe should be torn in pieces at her
deprture from the body, and blown away by the
winds, and vanish, and utterly cease to exist.

Socrates

230 THE GATE OF LIFE

'^^' OW methinks I hear death say of life, as John
'*"^ Baptist said of Christ, " He that cometh
after me is before me." O sweet word, Life, the
best Monosyllable in the world, God's own
attribute! jDeus vivit (God liveth) ; and **my
soul," saith Job, "shall live, for my Redeemer
liveth."

And is this life but the child of death ? Then
blessed also be the word Death, the mother of life ;
I will no more call thee Marah, but Naomi ; for
thou art not bitter, but sweet; more pleasant,
though swifter in thy gait than the Roe or Hind.

Henry Montague, Earl of Manchester

THE GATE OF LIFE

CHALL we believe that the sod, which is
^-^ invisible, and which goea hence to a place
that is like herself, glorious, and pure and invisible,
to Hades, which is rightly called the unaeeo
world, to dwell with the good and wise God,
whither, if it be the will of God, ray soul too must
shortly go ; — shall we believe that the aoul, whose
nature is so glorious and pure, and invisible, is blown
away by the winds and perishes as soon as she
leaves the body, as the world says f Nay, dear
Cebes and Simmias, it is not so. I will tell you
what happens to a soul which is pure at her
departure, and in her life has had no intercourse
that she could avoid with the body, hut has shnnned
it, and gathered herself into herself, for such has
been her consant study :^-and that only means
that she has loved wisdom rightly, and has truly
practised how to die. Is not this the practice of
death ;

Yes, ceruialy.

Does not the soul, then, which is in that state,
go away to the invisible that is like herself, and to
the divine, and the immortal, and the wise, whert
she is released from error, and folly, and fear,
and fierce passions, and all (he other evils that fall
to the lot of men, and is happy, and for the rest of
time lives in very truth with the gods ? Shall we
affirm this, Cebes !

Yes, certainly, said Cebes.

Socrates

232 THE GATE OF LIFE

T IV E holily, and you shall die happily.

-■^ Live as though there were no Gospel, but die

as though there were no law.

Henry Montague, Earl of Manchester

THE GATE OF LIFE

PROSPICE

^EARMcath i — to feel the fog in my throat.
The miBt in my face,
When the snows begin, and the blasia denote

I am Hearing the place,
The power of the night, the press of the storm.

The post of the foe ;
Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form,

Yet the' strong man must go :
For the journey is done and the summit attained.

And the barriers fall,
Though a battle's to fight ere the gueidon be
gained,
The reward of it all.
I was ever a fighter, so — one fight more,

The best and the last !
I would hate that death bandaged my eyes, and
forbore.
And bade me creep past.
No ! let me taste the whole of it, fare like ray

Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad i
Of pain, darkness and cold.

For sudden the worst turns the best t<
The black minute's at end,

And the elements' rage, the fiend-¥oi(
Shall dwindle, shall blend,

234 THE GATE OF LIFE

Shall change, shall become first a peace out of pain,

Then a light, then thy breast,
O thou soul of my soul ! I shall clasp thee again,

And with God be the rest !

Robert Browning

THE GATE OF LIFE 235

EATH being the Way and condition of Lifi

1 have often wondered at the unaceountHbleneaB
of lOAa in this, among other things ; that tho' he
ioves Changes so well, he should cure ao little to
hear or think of hia last, great, and beat Change
too, if he pleases.

The truest end of Life, U, to know ihc Life
that never ends.

He that lives to live ever, never fears dying.

Nor can the Means be terrible to him that
heartily believes the End.

For tho' Death be a Dark Passage, it leads to
Immortality, and that's Recompense enough for
SufFering of it.

William Pksn

236 AT LAST

VT" ESTER eve, Death came, and knocked at
** my thin door.

I from my window looked : the thing I saw.
The shape uncouth, I had not seen before.
I was disturbed — with fear in sooth, not awe ;
Wherefore ashamed, I instantly did rouse
My will to seek Thee — only to fear the more :
Alas ! I could not find Thee in the house.

I was like Peter when he began to sink,
To Thee a new prayer therefore I have got —
That, when Death comes in earnest to my door.
Thou wouldst Thyself go, when the latch doth

clink.
And lead him to my room, up to my cot ;
Then hold Thy child's hand, hold and leave him

not.
Till Death has done with him for evermore.

George MacDonald

TT is strange how pagan many of us are in our
* beliefs. True, the funeral libations have made
way for the comfortable baJcemeats ; still, to the
large majority, Death is Pluto, king of the dark
Unknown whence no traveller returns, rather than
Azrael, brother and friend, lord of this mansion of
life. Strange how men shun him as he waits m
the shadow, watching our puny straining after im-
mortality, sending his comrade sleep to prepare u8
for himself. When the hour strikes he comes^
very gently — very tenderly, if we will but have it
Bu — folds the tired hands together, lakes the way-
worn feet in his broad stiong palm ; and lifting us
in his wonderful arms he bears us swiftly down the
valley and across the waters of Remembrance.

MiCHaEi. Facrless

238

AT LAST

A S in the greatest extremities good Physicians
'^^ leave drugs, and minister only cordials ; so
deal by thy soul when death approaches : lay thee
down and sleep in peace; cast away all worldly
cares; entertain only thoughts that will animate
thy weak body and refresh thy thirsty soul, as
did that dew of Hermon, falling upon the Hill
of Sion.

When sickness undresses man for death, then
Job's scio (I know), and Saint Paul's cupio (I
desire) are the words of sweetest comfort.

Henry Montague, Earl of Manchester

AT LAST ■ 239

npHEN when the last guest steps to my side ;
''• —May it be summer, the windows wide, —
I would smile as the parson prayed.
Smile to think t was once afraid ;
Death should beckon me, take my hand,
Smile at the door of the silent land.
Then the slumber, how good to sleep
Under the grass where the shadows creep.
Where the headstones slant on the wind-swept
hill!

I shall have my will !

Arthur Christopher Benson

240

AT LAST

OUFFER us not for any pains of Death to foD
^ from Thee.

From Thee indeed we cannot fall, but from that
knowledge of Thee to which Thy Spirit has led
us. Suffer us not to fall, through the extremity
of bodily anguish, to any unrighteous or cringing
thought of Thee, any lower thought than we have
had in our sweetest hours of communion on summer
mornings when all was well.

So let us, abiding in the old confidence, stand
upright at Thy Door, O Lord and Lover of our
souls, looking for the Face long desired, the Face
of Uttermost Love.

From Thoughts of a Tertiary

DEAR in thy sickness all along the same
■'-' thoughts, propositions and diacourses concern-
ing thy person, thy Life and Death, thy Soul and
religion, which thou hadst in the best days of thy
health, and wh^n thou didst discoui'se wisely con-
cerning things spiritual.

For it h to be supposed {and if it be not yet
done, let this rule remind thee of it and direct thee, )
that tliou hast cast about in thy health, and con-
sidered concerning thy change and the evil day,
that thou must be sick, and die, that thou must need
a comforter, and that it was certain thou shouldst
fall into a elate in which all the corde of thy anchor
should be Ktretched, and the very rock and founda-
tion of Faith should be attempted j and whatsoever
fancies may disturb you, or whatsoever weaknesses
may invade you, yet consider, when you were better
able to judge and eovern the accidents of your life,
lecessary lo trust in God, and
a patience.

as they think that stand by you,
;n you stood by others ; that it
be patient ; that a quietness of
n reward, that still there is in-
a the promises of the Gospel ;
that still thou an in the care of God, in the con-
dition of a Son, and working out thy salvation with
labour and pain, with fear and trembling.

Jeremy TdVt/jE

you concluded it i
possess your souls ii
Think of things
and as you did whi
is a blessed thing t
spirit hath a certai;
finite truth and reality

242 AT LAST

TN Thee, therefore. Lord God, I put all my hop
^ and refuge, on Thee I repoae all my triboladoi
and anguish : for I find all to be infirm and unstable
whatever I behold out of Thee-

For neither will many friends avail me, noi
strong helpers bring me succour, nor wise counsellor
give an useful answer, nor books of learned mei
console me, nor all precious substance set me free
nor any secret and pleasant place keep me safe, i
Thou Thyself stand not by me, help not, strengthea
cheer, teach and keep me.

Thomas k Kempis

AT LAST 243

CPEAK, Father — in the awful stillness speak,
*^ Speak human-wise to one so human-weak ;
For if I look above, the sky is dumb.
Or to the nearer earth, there is but hum
Of other souls as freighted with the sense
Of their despair, of Thine omnipotence.

Beyond, Beyond.

Thou canst content the nestling in the nest ;
Or if disquietude be Thy behest,
Teach me to see those beacon lights afar.
Where the Amens of mortal longmgs are !
So to keep constant watch, nor find my soul
Turning for ever to some new-found goal

Beyond, Beyond.

Find it I cannot. Lead me through the dark !
Suffer the outstretched Angel of the Ark,
Close at the end, to lean o'er me and say :
" He whom thou seekest is Himself the Way 1
Dimly through earth fogs thou hast sought Him —

see
How on the other side He waits for thee

Beyond, Beyond ! "

C. C. Fraser-Tytler

244 AT LAST

A LL the while I lived, said a good man, I was
-^^ on my journey, in via (in my way), but not
in f atria (in my country) ; but now that I am dying,
1 find myself near home : I am come to Mount
Sion ; I will not therefore sit down on this side
Jordan, but hasten to the heavenly Jerusalem;
whither when I come, I shall there see my God
face to face ; hear my Saviour say, Euge bone server
it is My Father's will to give thee a kingdom.

Henry Montague, Earl of Manchester

AT LAST 245

LJ E who remembereth Me at the time of the
^ ^ end, being freed from the body, he, going
forth, entereth into My being; there is no doubt
of that.

Bhagavad GUa

246 AT LAST

T^HE grave is but a withdrawing room, to retire
-■• in for a while, a going to bed to take rert
sweeter than sleep. And when it is time to rise,
"then shall I be satisfied," saith the Prophet
David.

Henry Montague, Earl of Manchester

I hear far voices out of darkness calling
My feet to paths unknown.

Thou who hast made my house of life so pleasant,
Leare not its tenant when its walls decay ;

Love Divine, O Helper ever present.
Be Thou my otrength and stay.

Be near me when all else is from me drifting,
Earth, sky, home's pictures, days of shade and

And kindly faces to my own. uplifting
The love which answers mine.

1 have but Thee, my Father ! let Thy Spirit

Be with me then to comfort and uphold ;
No gate of pearl, no branch of palm I merit,
I Nor street of siiining gold.

Suffice it if— my good and ill unreckoned,

And both forgiven through Thy abounding
! grace—

I I find myself by hands familiar beckoned
Unto my fitting place :

Some humble door among Tliy many
Some sheltering shade where sin

248 AT LAST

And flows for ever through heaven's green expan-
sions
The river of Thy Peace.

There, from the music round about me stealing,
I fain would learn the new and holy song.

And find at last, beneath Thy trees of healing,'
The life for which I long.

John Greenleaf Whittier

A BBA, in Thine eternal years
■** Bethink Thee of our fleeting day ;
From all the rapture of our eyes and ears

How shall we tear ourselves away.'

At night my little one says nay,
WitJi prayers implores, entreats with tears,

Foe ten more flying minutes' play :

How shall we tear oureelves away ?

Yet call, and I'll surrender
The flower of sou! and sense,
ife's passion and its splendour,
Id quick obedience.

not without the blumeleea human tears
By eyes which slowly glaze and darken shed,
Yet without questionings or fears
For those I leave behind when I am dead.
Thou, Abba, know'st how dear
My little child's poor playthings are to her ;

Yet when she stands between my knees
To kiss good-night, she does not sob in sorrow
" Oh, father, do not break or injure these."
She knows that 1 shall fondly lay them by
For happiness to-morrow ;
So leaves them trustfully.
And shall not 1 ?

Whatever darkness gather

O'er coverlet or pal!,
Since Thou art Abba, Father,

Why should I fear at all !

250 AT LAST

Thou'st seen how cloaely, Abba, when at rest.

My child's head nestles to my breast ;

And how my arm her little form enfolds.

Lest in the darkness she should feel alone ;

And how she holds

My hands, my hands, my two hands in her own ?

A little easeful sighing,

And restful turning round,
And I, too, on Thy love relying,

Shall slumber sound.

William Canton

DLESS and sanctify my aoiil with Thy
^ heavenly blessing, that it may be made Thy
holy habitation and the seat of Thy elemal glory :
and in what Thou hast deigned to make Thy temple,
let nothing be found which may offend the eyes of
Thy majesty.

According to the greatness of Thy goodness and
the multitude of Thy mercies, look down upon me,
and give ear to the prayer of Thy poor servant,
banished far from Thee in the region of the shadow
of death.

Protect and keep the sou! of Thy poor servant
amidst so many perils of this corruptible life, and
direct him with the fellowship of Thy grace
through the path of peace to the country o"
lasting lig!it. Amen.

Thomas a

252 AT LAST

THE CALL OF CHRISTIANA

'^J OW while they lay here, and waited for the
good hour, there was a noise in the town,
that there was a post come from the celestial city,
with matters of great importance to one Christiana,
the wife of Christian the Pilgrim. So enquiry was
made for her, and the house was found out where
she was. So the post presented her with a letter ;
the contents were, " Hail, good woman ! I bring
thee tidings, that the Master calleth for thee, and ex-
pecteth that thou shouldest stand in his presence, in
clothes of immortality, within these ten days." . . .

When Christiana saw that her time was come,
and that she was the first of this company that was
to go over, she called for Mr. Great-heart the guide,
and told him how matters were. So he told her
he was heartily glad of the news, and could have
been glad had the post come for him.

Then she called for her children, and gave them
her blessing, and told them that she had read with
comfort the mark that was set in their foreheads,
and was glad to see them with her there, and that
they had kept their garments so white. . . .

Then said Mr. Honest, " I wish you a fair day
when you set out for Mount Sion, and shall be
glad to see that you go over the river dry-shod."
But she answered, " Come wet, come dry, I long
to be gone ; for however the weather is in my
journey, I shall have time enough when I come
there, to sit down and rest me, and dry me." . . .

AT LAST 253

So she came forth and entered the river, with
a beckon of farewell to those that followed her
to the river-side. The last words that she was
heard to say, were, " I come, Lord, to be with
thee, and bless thee."

John Bun van

254 AT LAST

A DEATH-BED

'1^7' E waited at the heavenly gate,
^ ^ As those who watch for morning wait

The faithful dawn to see :
A thin cloud veiled it from our view,
But it was close at hand, we knew.
With Him who has the key.

He was beside us, strong and true.
His patient, perfect work to do,

His words of grace to say ;
And on the bed He came to bless.
The shadow of His loveliness

In tranquil outline lay.

Through mortal pain, from change to change,
A hallowed way that was not strange

With Him our loved one went ;
While from His breast, with resting eyes.
She watched the light of love arise

On all the griefs He sent.
• • . • • •

We saw the gate unclose at last.
And through the opening, as she passed,

A gleam of glory came ;
It set its seal upon her face —
It filled her sad, forsaken place

With one triumphant Name.

Anna L/etitia Waring

LAST WORDS OF JACOB BEHMEN

" O^^^ '""^ ^°°' ^""^ '" '" """''^ °^^^^^ music,"
^'^ the dying man said to his weeping aon.
Behmen was already hearing the harpers harping
with their harps. He was already taking hia part
in the song they sing in Heaven to Hira who loved
them and washed them from their «tns in Hia own
blood. And now said the biesaed Behmen, " I go
to-day to be with my Redeemer and my King in
Paiadise," and so died.

From Jacob Bthmtn : nn Appreaatmi, by
Alexandek Wkvte

256 AT LAST

LAST WORDS OF SAN PEDRO DE

ALCANTARA

pEDRO died in the Convent of Mount Areno.
^ It is said that the hour of his death was
revealed to him so that he was able to announce it
to those around him.

He received the Holy Sacraments of the Church,
and breathed his last devqutly kneeling, and repeat-
ing with holy joy the words of the Psalmist :

" I was glad when they said unto me, We will go
into the house of the Lord."

Spanish Mystics

DEATH OF BEDE

tJE passed the day joyfully, fill the shadows of
■*■ the evening began to fall, and ihcn the boy

who waH writing down his translation of Si. John
said, " Dear Maater, there is yet one sentence to
be written." He answered, " Write
Soon after the boy said, " ■]
now." "Thou hast well said
Raise my head in thy hands ; for I i
facing the holy place where I was
and aa I lie to call upon my Father."

And so he Uy on the pavement of his Itttle
cell, singing, " Glory be to the Father, and to the
Son, and to the Holy Ghost." And when he
named the Holy Ghost, be breathed his last, and so
departed to the Heavenly Kingdom.

St, Cuthbcrt's account of the death of Bede,
taken from Tic L'lttJe Lives of ihe Smnli b

258

THE LAST DAYS OF ST. FRANCIS

"TpHE leech saith unto him: "Brother, by the
■'■ grace of God it shall be well with ihee."
The BIcsaed Fraoeia said tinto him: "Tell me
the truth. How aeenieth it unto thee ? Fear not
to tell me, seeing that by the grace of God no
craven am I that I should fear death, for by the grace
of the Holy Ghost that worketh with me, I am so
made Doe with my Lord that to live or die 1 am
equally content."

The leech therefore said unto him : '* Manifestly,
father, by all rules of our leech-craft thine infirmity
is incurable, and 1 do believe that either at the end
of Se[rtember or on the fourth of the Nones of
October thou wilt die.' ' Then the Blessed Francis
lying back. !c his bod with great deroutness and i
reverence spread out liis hands toward the Locd^fl
and with much cheerfulness of mind and body said 'it
"Welcome, ray Sister Death ! " ...

Then the Blessed Francis, albeit that he was
weighed down by hiH infirmities beyond his wont,
yet did seem nevertheless to put on new gladness of
mind, hearing that Sister Death was so dose at
hand, and with great fervency of spirit gave p
unto the Lord, and said unto the brother : " 1
aimuch as that and it please the Lord I am bo
to die, call brother Angelo and brother Leo
me that they may sing to mc of Sister Death,"

When those two had come into his presence,
of ^ef and sadness with many tears they chanta

AT LAST 259

the **Song of Brother Sun and of the other
creatures of the Lord" that the holy man had
made. And at that time before the last verse of
the canticle he added certain verses as concerning
Sister Death, saying :

Praised be Thou^ my Lord^ of Sister Deaths the
death of the hody^ from whom no man living may
escape^ but woe unto them that shall die in deadly sin^
and blessed he they that shall walk according to Thy
most holy w'dlyfor unto them shall the second death do
no hurt /

From the Speculum Perfecttonis, translated by

Sebastian Evans

26o AT LAST

THE DEATH OF ST. FRANCIS

pj E desired to take a last meal with his disciples.
•*■'■' Some bread was brought, he broke it and
gave it to them, and there in the poor cabin of the
Portiuncula, without altar and without a priest, was
celebrated the Lord's Supper. A Brother read
the Gospel for Holy Thursday : " Before the
feast of the Passover, Jesus knowing that His hour
was come to go from this world unto the Father,
having loved His own who were in the world, He
loved them unto the end."

The sun was gilding the crests of the mountains
with his last rays, there was silence around the
dying one. All was ready. The angel of death
might come. On Saturday, October 3, 1226, at
nightfall, without pain, he breathed the last sigh.
Life of St, Francis — Paul Sabatier

A HYMN TO GOD THE FATHER

'VXTILT Thou forgive that sin where I begun,
* " Which was ray sin, though it were done

Wilt Thou forgive that sin through which I run,

And do run still, though still I do deplore ?
When Thou hast done. Thou haat not done ;
For I have more.

Wilt Thou forgive lliat sin which I have won
Others to sin, and made my sins their door !

Wilt Tliou forgive that sin which 1 did ahun
A year or two, but wallowed in a Bcore i

When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done j
For I have more.

I have a sin of fear, that when I've spun
My last thread, I ehall perish on the shore ;

But swear by Thyself that at my death Thy Son
Shall shine, as He shines now and heretofore :

And having done chat. Thou hast done ;

John Donne

262 AT LAST

OLD Thou my hands ! .

'*■-■' In grief and joy, in hope and fear,
Lord, let mtfeel that Thou art near,
Hold Thou my hands.

If e'er by doubts
Of Thy good fatherhood depressed,

1 cannot find in Thee my rest,

Hold Thou my hands.

Hold Thou my hands,
These passionate hands too quick to smite.
These hands so eager for delight.

Hold Thou my hands.

And when at length.
With darkened eyes and fingers cold,
I seek some last loved hand to hold.

Hold Thou my hands.

WiLUAM Canton

263

LOVE IS STRONG AS DEATH

" T HAVE not sought Thee, I have not found

*■ Thee,

I have not thirsted for Thee :
And now cold biJlows of death surround me,
Billeting billows of death a»tound me, —

Wilt Thou look upon, wilt Thou see

Thy perishiog me ? "

" Yea, 1 have sought thee, yea, I have found thee.

Yea, I have thirsted for thee.
Yea, long ago with love's bands 1 bound thee :
Now the Everlasting Arms surround thee, —

Through death's darkness I look and see

And clasp thee to Me."

Christina Rossetti

264 AT LAST

"DOMINUS ILLUMINATIO MEA"

T N the hour of deaths after this life's whim.

When the heart beats low, and the eyes grow
dim.
And pain has exhausted every limb —

The lover of the Lord shaJl trust in Him. -

When the will has forgotten the life-long aim,
And the mind can only disgrace its fame,^
And a man is uncertain of his own name,
The power of the Lord shall fill this ^me.

When the last sigh is heaved, and the last tear shed,
And the coffin is waiting beside the bed,
And the widow and child forsake the dead —
The angel of the Lord shall lift this head.

For even the purest delight may pall.
And power must fail, -and the pride must fall.
And the love of the dearest friends grow small —
But the glory of the Lord is all in all.

Anon.

265

pRAY for me, O my friends j n visitant
*■ Ib knocking his dire summons at my door,
The like of whom, to scare me and to daunt.

Has never, never come to me before ;
'Tia death, — O loving friends, your prayers !— -'tis
he! . . .
Ab though my very being had given way,
As though I was no more a substance now,

And could fali back on nought to be my stay,
(Help, loving Lord ! Thou my sole Refuge,
Thou,)
And turn no whither, but must needs decay
And drop from out the universal frame

Into chat shapeless, scopelcss, blank abyss,
That utter nothingness, of which I came :
This IB it that has come to pass in rac :
O horror ! this it is, my dearest, this ;

So pray forme, my friends, who have not strength
to pray.

From Tlie Dream of Geronlmi —
Cardinal Newman

^66 AFTERWARDS

A NOTHER bodyl^Oh, new limbs are ready,
-^^ Free, pure, instinct with soul through every

nerve,
Kept for us in the treasuries of God.

Charles Kingsley

AFTERWARDS 267

THE DESERTED HOUSE

/^OME away: for Life and Thought
^^ Here no longer dwell ;

But in a city glorious —
A great and distant city — ^have bought

A mansion incorruptible.
Would they could have stayed with us !

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

268 AFTERWARDS

T F in this life holiness maketh the face of a man
'*' to shine, by an irradiatioq from the heart,
what shall be the . beauty of the body glorified ?
Surely though it be not deified, yet shall it be
purified, or perfected and immortalised. Our vile
bodies shall be changed and fashioned like His
glorious body. Such glory have all His saints.

Henry Montague, Earl of Manchester

AFTERWARDS 269

T SOMETIMES think my Heaven may be
'*' A green place, with an prchard tree,
And one sweet Angel, known to me.

C. C. Fraser-Tytler.

270 AFTERWARDS

THE JUDGEMENT

T is the face of the Incarnate God

Shall smite thee with that keen and subtle pain.

The sight of Him will kindle in thy heart

All tender, gracious, reverential thoughts.

Thou wilt be sick with Jove, and yearn for Him,

And feel as though thou couldst but pity Him,

That one so sweet should e'er have placed Himself

At disadvantage such, as to be used

So vilely by a being so vile as thee.

There is a pleading in His pensive eyes

Will pierce thee to the quick, and trouble thee.

And thou wilt hate and loathe thyself; for, though

Now sinless, thou wilt feel that thou hast sinned,

As never thou didst feel ; and wilt desire

To slink away, and hide thee from His sight.

And yet wilt have a longing aye to dwell

Within the beauty of His countenance.

And these two pains, so counter and so keen, —

The longing for Him, when thou seest Him not ;

The shame of self at thought of seeing Him, —

Will be thy veriest sharpest purgatory.

Cardinal Newman

AFTERWARDS 271

TXyTE know not when, we know not where,
^ ^ We know not what that world will be ^
But this we know : it will be fair
To see.

With heart athirst and thirsty face

We know and know not what shall be :
Christ Jesus bring us of His grace
To see.

Christ Jesus bring us of His grace,

Beyond all prayers our hope can pray.
One day to see Him face to Face,
One day.

Christina Rossetti

272 AFTERWAUDS

A L MIGHTY Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
'^^ Eternal, ever blessed, gracious God,
To me, the least of saints, to me allow
That I may keep a door in Paradise,
That I may keep even the smallest door.
The furthest door, the darkest, coldest door,
The door that is least used, the stifFest door.
If so it be but in Thine house, O God,
If so it be that I can see Thy glory
Even afar, and hear Thy voice, O God,
And know that I am with Thee — Thee, O God.

W. MuiR, founded on a doubtful couplet by

St. Columba

AFTERWARDS 273

T ASTL Y, Death brings me where I would be :
*^^ into my own country, into Paradise, where I
shall meet, not as in the Elysium of the Poets,
Catones, Scipiones, and Scaevolas : but Abraham,
Isaac, and Jacob, the Patriarchs my fathers, the
Saints my brothers, the Angels my friends: my
wife, children and kinsfolk that are gone before
me, and do attend me, looking and longing for
my arriving there. Where we shall thus con-
gratulate as Saint Paul saith : we are met in
Mount Sion, the City of the living God, and the
celestial Jerusalem, in the company of innumerable
Angels ; where things that eye hath not seen, nor
ear heard, nor heart of man can conceive, are pre-
pared for us and all that fear God.

Therefore I will say. Lord, when shall I come
and appear before Thee ? Like as the Hart pant-
eth for the water- brooks so pants my soul for
Thee, O God: I had rather be a doorkeeper in
Thy house than dwell here, though in chambers
of pleasure.

Henry Montague, Earl of Manchester

274

T SHALL be satisfied when I awake.
. Book of Psalms

INDEXES

INDEX OF AUTHORS QUOTED

DATES

1 380-1471 A Kempis, Thomas, 242, 251.

Allen, James Lane, 154.

Anon., 264.
iS22~z888 Arnold, Matthew, 14, 180.

16 15-169 1 Baxter, Richard, vi.

1 5 75-1624 Behmen, Jacob, 42.

Benson, A. C, 239.

ist or 2nd'^ _,, , ^a a ^^

cent. A.D. / Bhagavad Gtta, 166, 245.

Binyon, Laurence, 8.

Bridges, Robert, 13, 181.
1605-1682 Browne, SirT., 69, 187.

1830-1897 Brown, T- E., 20, 174, 195.

1812-1889 Browning, Robert, 81, 121, 207, 233.

1628-1688 Bunyan, John, 47, 252.

circ, 1 567-161 9 Campion, Thomas, 31.

Canton, William, 249, 262.

Chapman, £. R., 7, 21.
347-407 Chrysostom, St., 54, 106, 140, 142.

cire. 200 A.D. Clement of Alexandria, 62, izz.
1 772-1 8 34 Coleridge, S. T., 58.

Corbet, R. W., 225.
1618-1667 Cowley, Abraham, 38.

1265-1321 Dante, 208, 213.

Darmesteter, Madame James, 146.
Dcarmer, Percy, 257.
277

278 INDEX OF AUTHORS

DATES

1833-1900 Dixon, R. W., 17, 85, 102, 107, 179, 191,

214.
1573-1631 Donne, John, 261.

Dowden, Edward, 184.

Ecclesiasticus, 200.
1788-1870 Erskine, Thomas, 113, 120, 147, 157.
Exodus^ 43.

Fairless, Michael, 237.
1631 Ferrar, Mary, 44.

1651-1715 F^nelon, 89, 134, 141, 170, 216.

Fraser-Tytler, C, C, 243, 269.

Greenwell, Dora, 82, 93, no, 119, 155,

203, 227.

1593-^632 Herbert, George, 36, 49, 65, 133, 188.
1 844-1 889 Hopkins, Gerard Manley, 70.

Inner Life, The^ 1 73.

1 81 7-1893 Jowett, Benjamin, 126, 163, 165, 194.
1500-1569 Juan de Aviia, 68, 124, 177.
Jukes, Andrew, 148, 164.

1 792-1 866 Keble, John, 90.

King, H. E. Hamilton, 201.
181 9-1 875 Kingsley, Charles, 5, 97, 266.

Kipling, Rudyard, 98.

1 764-1 847 Lamb, Mary, 6.

1686-1761 Law, William, 125, 131, 149, 162, 183.

Lowell, James Russell, 29.

Lynch, T. T., 33, 59, 78.

b. 1824 MacDonald, George, 3) 72, 80, 96, xoo,

138, 182, 189, 193, 199, 236.
1 848-1 867 Mackworth-Dolben, Digby, i.
circ. 1563-'^ Manchester, Henry Montague, Earl of,
1642 J 230, 232, 238, 244, 246, 268, 273.

V-

^y INDEX OF AUTHORS 279 1

SiTm. ..c

Afcnu, C«t =/, jy.

Marcuii Anrelins Antoninus, 40, 71, 73,

91, 156, 1:4. i»6.

Meynell, Alice, 135.

146J-1+94

Mirandola, Giovanni Pico dflU, 111, I30.

,s,UtU

Molinos, Miguel, 111,143-

■533-'59i

Montai^De, Michel, Sleur di:, 113.

Muir, W., 171.

Miiller, Man. 159. 219.

iSoi-1890

Newman, Cardinal John Henry, 165, 170.

1813-1896

Patmore, Covenlry, 16. li, log, 114, iji.

.S8,i78.'9S.

iS,<-i67,

Penington, Isaac, 77, 109, iig, 119, 14J,

ijo, .fi7-

Mg*--7.>

Penn, WilUam, 15, 46, 50, ,3. 74. *7.

131,144, 151, 1(3. 161. »3S.

^^tf

Phillipa, Stephen, \g, 75.

P.alm:B=ditf. 101,174.

QulUer Coueh, A. T., 84.

i*3C-iS94

Rossetti, Chrlitina Georgina, 30, gj, Ml.

■'6. 157. '39, 191. "0.163,171.

Sab a tier, Paul, i6o.

1499-1561

San Pedro de Aksntara, Ii3, 17J.

I>g:-iiz6

St. Franc!>of A«i(i,67.

465-359 O'C-

Socrates, 119, iji.

So/™™, m-Jm p/, 14.

Sfainili MvilKi, Author of. 3S, :;6.

1117

■ ,8jo-.gj4

Steventon, Robert Lou i», 10, lo;, igg.

1190-1 j6i

Tauler, John, 76, 171,

,6.3-.667

Taylor, Jeremy. 45, 48, 51, JJ. s6, 10+.

117, 141.

L iSp3-i«9»

Tennyion, Alfred, Lord, 15,13,167.

Ttrliary, Tk-Hglili of a, «1, 19;, J40.

28o INDEX OF AUTHORS

DATES

circ. 1350 Theoicgia Germanicaf 92, 136, 169, l86.

Third Order of St, Frauds^ Manual of the ^ 51.
Thompson, Francis, 185.

circ, 500 B.C. Upanishads^ 39, 190.

Vane, Sir Henry, zz%,
1622-1695 Vaughan, Henry, 57, 63, 176.

1 606-1 687 Waller, Edmund, 212.

Waring, Anna Lztitia, 27, 254.
1 807-1 892 Wiiittier, John Greenleaf, 26, 86, 168,

205, 211, 217, 221, 247.
Whyte, Alexander, 255.
1 568-1 639 Wotton, Sir Henry, 34.
1770-1850 Wordsworth, William, 35, 41, 117, 209,

215.

Yeats, W. B., 12, 66.

INDEX OF FIRST LINES

Abba, in Thine eternal years

Accustom yourself

A child's a plaything for an hour

Ah I children, if man knew

Ah, yet, ere I descend .

All the while Hived

All Truth is a shadow .

All which I took from thee

Almiehty Father .

And then at last .

And though the first

And yet, dear heart

An idifi poet

Another body

As . for. matters of Huswifery

As in the greatest extremities

As to what you may think .

Be able to be alone

Bear in thy sickness

Be constant, O happy soul

Behold now how much .

Beneath the moonlight .

Be not discouraged

Be of good cheer .

Best are thev

Be useful where thou livest

Bless and sanctify .

By all means use .

281

PAUB

i7«

»44

H5
18s

272

118

i7«

266

44
238

154

69
241

"43

177

205
162

71
107

251

282 INDEX OF FIRST LINES

PAGE

Canst be idle
Child, child, child !
Christ is the Rest .
Come away .
Come, then, as ever
Come to me in my dreams
Consider that everything

Dear night ! this world's
Death being the Way .
Death is no less essential
Deep in the warm vale .
Depart (saith Nature) .
Do good with what thou hast
Do not think

Ere Mor the Peacock flutters

Ere on my bed

Every creature hath

Every day bring God .

Excess in Apparel

Experience bows a sweet contented face

Far among the lonely hills
Far off, and faint .
Fear death ? .
Feed My sheep .
Fondly the wise man .

Giver of Sleep

God leads us

God I Thou art mind .

Great is their peace

Hast thou a cunning instrument

Having once dedicated .

He desired to take

He passed the day

Here it is thou must not

He that is down needs .

INDEX OF FIRST LINES 283

He who is in the Fire .
He who remembereth .
He will pray in every .
Hold Thou my hands .
Honour a physician
How happy is he .
How sweet and pleasant
How sweetly doth
How then stands the case

am here for thee

am not more

cannot tell .
f I have faltered
f in this life
f length of Days
f this world's friends .
f thou love thine health

fully understand
f where thou walkest .
If you were to use yourself

give myself to prayer .

have desired

have no answer .

have not sought Thee

leave thy praises

mourn no more .
n clothes, cheap handsomenesse
n prayer the soul
n sickness .
n Thee, therefore
n the hour of death
n the morning
n this age .

said "I will find" .

shall be satisfied

sleep, I eat and drink .

sometimes think

think you should try .
is a sad Reflection

PAGE

190

*45
122

262

200

34
ISO

188

224

179

H7
199

105

268

187

176

123

216

131

86
263

217

49
128

194

242

264

56
208
184

274
104
269

134
144

284 INDEX OF FIRST LINES

It is God that causeth .

It is not yours

It is strange .

It is the face

It's a coal from God's altar

It seems to me

I will arise and go now

I with uncovered head .

Lastly, Death brings me
Let all persons
Lie still, my restive heart
Live holily, and you shall
Lo J now thy swift dogs
Lord, I on every day
Lord Jesus, who would think
Lord, make me one
Love hath great store .
Love is indeed Heaven .
Love, love that once
Love, too, blossoms out

Meditate as much
My child is lying

Neither despise
Neither the commentator
Never talk with any man
Not for these sad issues
Not only the change
Not yet, my soul .
Now consider first
Now he who will
Now methinks I hear
Now while they lay here

O all wide places

O blest seclusion

O Father, Thou art my eternity

Of Juan de Avila ,

PA<»

• 77

••' ?o

• a37

. »70

r. «S3

. 170

• *9

• *73

. 48

• 95

« ■

. 23a

. lOO

• 33

• 137

• 30

• 17

• <

. 87

. 119

• . .

. -85

• 67

. • .

■

• i5»

• 157

• 45

• 41

• •

. zoS

. 76

. 92

. 230

. ^S^

• 7*

• *>5

. . 1Q3

. 88

INDEX OF FIRST LINE 285 1

1 OfLove that never found

'Ts

I foolish Soul

1 P Ood, to Thee 1 yield .

f (Ml, make my anger

'.'.'.' ^6

1 Oh I Sir, would you know

■ 183

LoTiDg Spirit, do not vn

Ody-bnt thi. is rare .

O pain, Loie'i myelery ,

. Iy6

Open the door

155

Our dreii, hoase, and furnitu

re . . . s>

Pirdon, Lord, the lips .

111

Pedro died in the

'. 156

People who love theoiaclvts

Prayer U an act

'. '. ! 116

Pray for me

. . - 165

Pray often, and you eliall

, 117

Rejoice with them

. .06

Remove from thyself

. s»

Shall we believe .

131

Since succour to the feebkst

Sleep should be light .
6o act in thy brief passag.:

So, Age Ihou dealest UD

So, at the Imt

. 107

So fare the many .

Some shrinlt from.

164.

Some think that .

So iweet love leemed .

Speak, Father— in the awful

J4J

Spend your brief momenc

tiuBer u. not

140

The assurance that the right

on. . . . 110

The blindest faith may .
The children cannot tle«p

. I6S

The deeper these thoughts

The first feeling . .

.6j

286 INDEX OF FIRST LINES

The fourth part of their life 113

The GoUin »ight iw>

The grace of God upon thee aoi

The graie i» but *4*

Thehalfofmiiiic 7S

The inward, steady righteoutDtsa . ... 74

The leech ffiithuDto him ..... 25*
The Lord hath caUed .......

The man of life upright 3^

The man of per&cl knowledge . ■ . 16S

The man who is careful 6»

The mortal man 13'

The myttery of innocent 'I'
Then comes the happy moment . .181

Then life it . ... ■ ">

Then when the Us t 239

Then within my soul '9'

The pa ipful sense i*5

The quarrel of the iparrows 11

Tbwe are four sorti of men 1S9

There are in thi> loud 90

There 1. b secret . . I7J

There is a shrine '

There is a threefoU oneneai ... .195

There i> DO suffering H

There ii one my for thee 101

The residue of life ■ - 4°

The leaa are quiet >»

Thete helps tollcit |S

The sense of duly 16$

The soulof a philosopher laj

Tbey leek for thetnselves 7J

They that loTe aS

This it the way of Salvation 15S

This WotU is ■ Form 161

Tho' ihoo hist been so 14*

Thou gavesi uuto me , , 93

Though the TighteoL! b^ prevented ... 1+

ThoaghtK alone can cause ]9

TJiou hast given me - 110

INDEX OF FIRST LINES 287

Thus you see
To me all things seem .
To-morrow or in twenty
Too eager I must not be
Too soon, too soon comes
To the living and affirmative
To trust God with all .
Tune me, O Lord .

miud

We are evidently .

Weigh all my faults

We know not when

We must use special caution

We persist in walking .

We waited at the heavenly gate

What can there be

What time I am afraid .

What you are now saying

When a man hath tasted

When I have said .

When I no more can

When I stir thee .

When night comes

When on my day .

When the clock strikes

When the deepest foundation

When the state

Where men are enlightened

While thou art in the world

Who, if he is honest

Wilt Thou forgive.

With all my will .

Yester eve, Death came .
You never attained

PAGE

149
148
146
182
22
152
109
192

113

271

17s
225

a54
189

lOI

186

203

130

159
158

136

219

261

236
135

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